


Through Thick and Thin

by lesbrarians



Series: Through Thick and Thin [1]
Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:35:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 59,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27822361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbrarians/pseuds/lesbrarians
Summary: Dilan and Aeleus are roommates, best friends, and bros for life. This modern college AU follows Dilan and Aeleus, their relationships with their significant others, Rudol and Ienzo, and, of course, their unyielding bromance. AU XalLux and LexZex.(Please note that this fic was written in 2010, prior to the canon reveals of the Somebodies. Elrena is L'Erena and Lauriam is Lumaria. Luxord's Somebody is Rudol, and Demyx's Somebody is Myde.)
Relationships: Aeleus/Ienzo (Kingdom Hearts), Dilan/Luxord's Somebody (Kingdom Hearts), Lexaeus/Zexion (Kingdom Hearts), Luxord/Xaldin (Kingdom Hearts)
Series: Through Thick and Thin [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035852
Comments: 14
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

"Dilan."  
  
"Mmmph." The lump under the covers shifted but didn't respond further. Aeleus sighed and lifted his eyes heavenward. He'd just returned from his 8 A.M. class to find his roommate still fast asleep, his alarm clock flashing soundlessly. Ordinarily, he would have let him sleep straight through his first class of the day, but he knew for a fact that Dilan's professor took attendance and made it a deciding factor in the final grades of the semester.  
  
"Dilan, wake the fuck up," he tried again, shoving him with more force this time. "You have class in ten minutes."  
  
"Mmmshutup. Go 'way," Dilan mumbled indistinguishably.  
  
"Yeah, I'm not going away until you get up," Aeleus replied, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow. "Unless you give me twenty bucks," he added as an afterthought.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Wallet's on the counter," Dilan said groggily, still half-asleep and obviously not getting the joke.  
  
"Really? Sweet." He wasn't expecting this sort of compliance, but he wasn't about to argue against it. Aeleus ambled over to the counter of the kitchenette in their small shared apartment and rifled through Dilan's wallet briefly. He rolled his eyes at the small picture of Dilan and his current boyfriend before pocketing a ten-dollar bill, choosing not to take complete advantage of him in his sleep-addled state.  
  
Aeleus was not one to give up that easily, however, and he quickly filled up a glass of water and returned to his roommate's bedside. "Now seriously, get your lazy ass out of bed, because I'm not taking the blame if you oversleep." He dumped the glass of water unceremoniously over the other's head.  
  
Dilan bolted straight up, sputtering and cursing. "Dude!" he burst out, wiping his eyes furiously. "What the _fuck_?"  
  
"You're late," Aeleus explained simply, jerking one thumb at the malfunctioning alarm clock.  
  
Dilan swore vehemently when he realized what time it was. The rude awakening he had received was more efficient than a shot of espresso at waking him up. He clambered out of bed and threw on the nearest shirt he could find, one of his fraternity sweatshirts. His pajama pants would have to stay, but at this point, appearance was secondary. Besides, he certainly would not be the only one to attend a ten o'clock lecture looking less than presentable. He tugged on one shoe and hopped around the room frantically in search of the other one, cussing like a sailor. Aeleus calmly handed him his left sneaker.  
  
"Thanks, man," Dilan managed and tore out the bedroom door to quickly gather his class materials together.  
  
"The shuttle leaves in four minutes," Aeleus called after him as Dilan scrambled for his things, hurriedly shoving the essentials in his backpack. His class was on the other side of campus, but if he could make it to the shuttle before it left…  
  
Dilan slammed the door behind him and sprinted for the stairs. By taking them two at a time and possibly shoving a few straggling freshmen out of his way, he was just able to catch the bus before it left, flagging it down before it pulled away from the curb. He pulled out his wallet to pay the shuttle fare and frowned. He could have sworn that he had at least thirty dollars more than the current amount the last time he checked his wallet. "Goddammit, where does all my money keep disappearing to?" he muttered to himself. He shrugged, writing it off as part of being a poor college student, and began drumming his fingers impatiently against the metal pole he was holding on to for support. The worst part (and there were very few) of attending a university in the center of the city was having to deal with the traffic when taking public transportation, especially when he was already pressed for time. The minute the bus doors opened, he jumped out and made a beeline for his designated building.  
  
Dilan just made it into the lecture hall with mere seconds to spare and thanked his lucky stars that the professor was experiencing technical difficulties with the projector, giving him time to catch his breath. He slid into his usual seat next to his pierced partner-in-crime at the very back of the room. He had been more or less dating Rudol for a month, although he was loath to use the word "date." He already gave Aeleus enough flak for acknowledging that he had been dating Ienzo steadily for close to four months; he didn't need the favor returned. Nothing destroyed a bro's cred more than the term "dating." Of course, he and Aeleus were legendary enough that they could afford such slights to their reputations, but still. It was the principle of the matter. He and Rudol were just... _seeing each other exclusively._  
  
Instead of greeting him hello or inquiring as to why he was so late in arriving like any normal person would do, the blond grinned at him and commented, "Those pajama bottoms are a wonderful look on you. They go exceptionally well with that clashing sweatshirt."  
  
"Shut up," Dilan answered, but he had to crack a smile. He reached for his Eastern Religions notebook, only to realize that he'd left it on the kitchen counter in his rush to get to class. "I was in a hurry to leave. Can I borrow some paper?"  
  
"Obviously. And yes, you may, but it'll cost you. Nothing in life's free, after all. Everything comes at a price."  
  
"Dude, what the fuck?" Dilan said, incredulous. "It's just a couple pieces of paper."  
  
"Now, sexual favors are always a good bet," he pondered, taking no heed of Dilan's exclamation. "But an extra twenty bucks is always useful..."  
  
"You _suck_." Dilan shoved Rudol out of the way and grabbed his notebook, successfully ripping out a few blank pages to use for his own notes.  
  
"Oh, you know I do," Rudol said suggestively, snickering, but he quickly settled down when the professor announced the start of his lecture.  
  
After a few moments of listening attentively, Dilan wrote on a sheet of paper, "What kind of sexual favors?" He nudged Rudol and nodded at the note.  
  
Rudol smirked and scribbled down a reply in his notebook. "Oh, I'm sure I can think of something good… Care to find out tonight?"  
  
"Actually, me and Ae are crashing a frat party tonight. Wanna come along?"  
  
Rudol's pen hovered hesitatingly for a few seconds before he wrote back, "Sure, sounds like a good time to me!"  
  
"Cool."  
  
"But don't think you can weasel your way out of this one. I'm writing you an I.O.U."  
  
"Wouldn't dream of it."  
  
"Ace."  
  
"Yeah." Dilan paused and lifted his head to listen to the professor for a minute before questioning, "Did he just use the word 'shitstick' in a sentence?"  
  
"I do believe that he said, 'The Buddha is more than just a shitstick.'"  
  
"Let's pay attention now."  
  
"Good idea."  
  
\------------------------  
  
In retrospect, Dilan should have realized that choosing to bring Rudol along without gaining permission from Aeleus first wasn't the wisest of decisions.  
  
"You invited _who_? Are you insane?" Aeleus exploded when Dilan informed him of the change in plans.  
  
"Bro, chill. It's cool. He won't give us away, I swear," Dilan assured him as he scooped up an abandoned basketball off of the floor and fell into a chair. "Hey, invite Ienzo too if it'll make you feel better." He shrugged and sat back in his seat, effortlessly twirling the ball on his finger.  
  
Aeleus gave him a scathing look. "Yeah, right," he said sarcastically. "You know that he hates this kind of thing. And as much as I like the kid, I don't think I can trust him to keep his mouth shut. He'd lecture me the entire time."  
  
"Yeah, he definitely would," Dilan conceded. "It's beyond me what you see in him. But unlike Ienzo, Rudy can shut up when he has to. S'all good, man." Without warning, he tossed the basketball to his roommate.  
  
Aeleus instinctively caught the ball and twirled it between his hands. "Fine, he can come," he relented. "But we're getting in and going straight for the keg. That's it. No side-trips."  
  
\------------------------  
  
Later that night, the three of them were in the dining hall scavenging for food before embarking on their mission. "Okay, here's the deal," Dilan began, adding three slices of pizza to the mound of food he was piling up onto several plates. He and Aeleus were giving Rudol the lowdown over dinner before heading over to their archrival's fraternity house to gatecrash the party.  
  
"We have one purpose, and one purpose alone," Aeleus finished. He accepted his quesadilla from the range next to the pizza station, stacking the plate on top of all the other dishes he had accumulated. "What?" he added defensively, glaring at the group of people waiting in line for their own quesadillas, their eyes on him and the exorbitant amount of food he was carrying. The offenders quickly averted their gazes, mumbling undistinguishable apologies.  
  
Rudol had to hide a smirk. That was one of the perks of being with Dilan and, by association, Aeleus: the immunity that came from traveling with them. No one bothered the two huge football players who ate enough for five people. He could get used to this. "And that is…?" he prompted as they made their way through the throng of students, many of whom gladly got out of their way, towards a table.  
  
"We're stealing a keg tap," Dilan explained, spreading out his dinner on the table in front of him.  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Zeta Beta Tau is Sigma Chi's biggest rival," Aeleus said, biting into a burger. "Lifting their most prized possession is the ultimate revenge."  
  
"Yeah, we're gonna show them who's boss," Dilan added through a mouthful of French fries.  
  
Rudol quirked an eyebrow and leaned back in his seat. "So I take it this is kind of a big deal, then?" He popped a handful of Cheerios in his mouth. Unlike Dilan and Aeleus, he didn't much care for heavy, All-American food. He did have some strange eating habits, however, and was currently addicted to treating cereal and toast as dinner foods.  
  
"Understatement of the century. Their keg tap practically _defines_ them. It's been passed down from one frat brother to another for forever. So taking it from them," Dilan said, punctuating his point with an emphatic jab of his French fry, "is a big deal."  
  
"I'll take your word for it," Rudol said mildly, having never been involved with the ins and outs of Greek life before getting together with Dilan. "So, how do we go about pulling off this fabulous heist?"  
  
"We've got a few options, but don't worry your pretty little head about that." Rudol flung a scrap of toast at Dilan, who ducked to avoid the flying missile. The stray crust bounced off of a stranger's table. "Nice throw, dipwad. But like I was saying, me and Ae got it covered. But first, we have to find the thing."  
  
"Basic plan of action: get in and hunt down the kegs. The tap we're looking for is brass and has their Greek letters on the handle. Once we locate it, we'll figure out the best way to take it unnoticed. It'll be genius."  
  
"Excellent." Rudol grinned, his blue eyes sparkling mischievously. "I've always loved a good thrill."  
  
\------------------------  
  
After finishing dinner (which took a remarkably short amount of time, despite the vast quantity of food inhaled), they hit the streets and set off for the Zeta Beta Tau chapter house. Despite it being a Wednesday night, the Greek scene was as busy as ever, with fraternity and sorority members relaxing on the steps of their respective houses. Midterm season placed a lot of stress on every college student, and what better way to relieve said stress than partying?  
  
Rudol eyed the fraternity row with interest. He'd never been to this side of campus before, and he was intrigued by the change in scenery. "It seems to me like this might be a risky venture," he commented, eyes flitting over the various buildings and their inhabitants. "Let's hope we stand up to the odds, yeah?"  
  
"You say that as though you doubt me," Dilan said with mock hurt in his voice.  
  
"I could never doubt you." Rudol grinned up at him and impulsively laced his fingers through Dilan's.  
  
"We're here," Aeleus interrupted before Rudy could take his shameless flirting further. His announcement was unnecessary, however; their destination made its presence known on its own sufficiently. The brownstone pulsed with activity, the pounding beat of the music and the boisterous noise of a house full of drunken college kids audible even from outside.  
  
The three party crashers looked up at the Greek letters of the Zeta Beta Tau fraternity house. Dilan and Aeleus exchanged knowing smirks.  
  
"Let's wreck this thing."  
  
"You said it, bro."  
  
They slipped inside, blending easily into the crowd with their heads bent so that none of the frat members would notice them as Sigma Chi boys. Being recognized as two of the most prominent members of the rival fraternity would not be conducive to their plan.  
  
"None in here," Dilan muttered to his accomplices, referring to the lack of kegs in the room, although a good many of the partygoers were clutching telltale red plastic cups.  
  
"Let's search the next room," Aeleus replied out of the corner of his mouth, and they made their way towards the doorway.  
  
Rudol tailed behind them, following Dilan closely, only to be taken by surprise when someone yanked the back of his collar and tugged him in the opposite direction. Before he had time to react appropriately, he was hustled into the kitchen, at least three pairs of hands roughly manhandling him. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" he spat, even as he was shoved down onto a chair.  
  
Rudol paled when he got a good look at who his assaulters were. He recognized most of them, _especially_ the grim-looking head honcho who looked like he had a bone to pick with him.  
  
"You owe me," the leader of the pack stated, folding his arms and looking down at him coldly. He was an intimidating-looking man with a clean scar across his nose, piercing turquoise eyes, and an air of superiority about him.  
  
"Well, I—" Rudol spluttered, but he was cut off before he could deny anything and everything.  
  
"$1,721."  
  
"That cannot possibly be right—"  
  
"$1,721," he repeated. He snapped his fingers, and one of his lackeys pulled out a little black book that listed everything: the date that Rudol first placed a bet with the bookie, the moment when he'd lost the bet and recklessly bet again for double-or-nothing, the day when he was supposed to pay up, and the subsequent charges for failing to do so. One single bet had spiraled out of control, and he'd only dug himself into a deeper hole by not paying what he owed and compounding the problem even further. He'd been doing his best to avoid this bloke, but it appeared that his luck had finally run out.  
  
Rudol wet his lips and attempted to grin. "Right. Well. I'll just, eh, get back to you on that, now won't I?" He tried to slip away but was stopped when the man clamped a hand on his shoulder in a vise-like grip and gave him an ultimatum. "You have one month to get the money to me, or I'm breaking limbs." The broad-shouldered, dark-skinned guy on his left cracked his knuckles threateningly. The bookie scrawled the amount owed on a piece of paper in his leather-bound book, ripped it out, and shoved it into Rudol's hand. He signaled for his associates to forcibly eject the destitute gambler from the room, and they willingly complied.  
  
Shoved back into the midst of the throng of jostling, drunken partiers, Rudol stared at the sheet of paper, the bold, red-inked numbers leering back at him ominously. He took a deep breath and crumpled it up, dropping it to the floor, where it would be trampled under the feet of several hundred people too intoxicated to care. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the staggering figure and simultaneously trying to convince himself that it was okay. He could win all that money back and then some. He just had to put his mind to it. But now, he needed to escape this claustrophobic room before someone spilled beer on him. He elbowed people out of the way recklessly, trying to push his way through the crowd to reach the door and get some fresh air. All thoughts of Dilan were forgotten.  
  
\------------------------  
  
"Hey, where'd Rudol go?" Dilan asked, noticing that the blond was no longer behind him.  
  
"Don't know, don't care," Aeleus said brusquely. "Keep moving."  
  
Dilan shrugged and turned his attention back to the matter at hand: locating the keg and, more importantly, the infamous tap. "Let's split up," he suggested. "You check upstairs, I'll take the rest of downstairs. Meet me by the foot of the stairs in ten."  
  
As Aeleus headed for the stairs, Dilan surveyed his surroundings with a critical eye. Like every frat boy worth his salt knew, kegs should be stationed in the areas that received the most traffic. This meant that, logically speaking, he should be able to find some of them in the large reception area and the kitchen. He forced his way through the crowd, keeping his eyes peeled. One of the perks of being tall was that he was able to see over the heads of those shorter than him. His eyes lit up when he spotted three kegs near the back of the room. _Bingo_.  
  
Dilan started to head straight for the gold but stopped short upon recognizing a group of Zeta Beta Tau fraternity members hanging out near his destination. He swore and quickly ducked for cover out the nearest door, hoping that they hadn't spotted him.  
  
"Uh…" began a voice from behind him.  
  
Dilan straightened up and turned around to find a small group of loiterers staring at him oddly.  
  
"What's up?" one of the strangers, a slightly chubby boy with tufted black hair, said.  
  
Dilan relaxed; he didn't recognize them and, in any case, they didn't look too dangerous. "Nothing. Just trying to avoid some broad who's been stalking me all night," he invented wildly, keeping his voice nonchalant. "Total butterface. Won't take no for an answer." He sidled over to a keg on the counter to fill a cup of beer so as not to appear too suspicious. He took a sip, only to look at it in distaste. The beer was flat, which was only one more reason why they had to turn this kegger upside down. Parties with flat beer deserved to be hijacked.  
  
"Ahh," the boy replied knowingly, nodding. One of his friends laughed, while another long-faced blond merely stared up at Dilan with doleful blue eyes which, quite frankly, gave him the creeps. The girl sitting on the counter by the keg simply looked confused.  
  
"Butterface?" she asked.  
  
"Everything about her is hot, but-her-face," the guy leaning next to her explained.  
  
Dilan was no longer listening, however, because he'd found just what he had been looking for. There it was, attached to the glorious keg in front of him. The Golden Ticket. The Holy Grail. The Brass Tap.  
  
The girl frowned. "Well, now that's just rude."  
  
Dilan surreptitiously checked his watch, noting that it was just about time to go find Aeleus. "Yeah, well, you wouldn't say that if you saw her face." He downed the rest of his beer and left the cup on the counter. "Later." He lifted his hand in farewell and exited the room, congratulating himself on a job well done.  
  
Giving the ZBT members a wide berth, Dilan took a shortcut to reach the stairs. The elaborate staircase was wide open underneath, and he hid underneath it, giving him some shelter. He waited until he saw Aeleus come down the steps and cast his gaze around the room, looking for his roommate. Dilan yanked his arm, pulled him into his hideaway, and hissed, "I found the tap! S'in the kitchen."  
  
Aeleus smirked. "Awesome. And I found a little something that might help us pull this off."  
  
"What?"  
  
"There's a circuit breaker box in the closet upstairs."  
  
Dilan broke out into a wicked grin. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"  
  
"Oh, I think I am…"  
  
\------------------------  
  
Outside and away from the chaos of the wild party, Rudol lit up a cigarette to steady his nerves. The hit of nicotine to his lungs always put him at ease.  
  
"Okay, let's think this through logically," he muttered, stroking the goatee he was working on cultivating. "$1,721. That is indeed a lot of money. Now, under ordinary circumstances, I suppose I could possibly lower that sum by propositioning him…" He was oblivious to any strange sidelong glances he was receiving from other students who were also catching a quick smoke outside. Thinking out loud was a peculiar habit of his, albeit an unconscious one. "But I have the sneaking suspicion that that won't work in this instance. For one, the guy's fuckin' scary. And secondly, I'd rather not risk getting my arse handed to me on a silver platter by his mates. This could be a dilemma." He took a drag on his cigarette. "But it's nothing that I can't fix," he continued confidently. "I just have to step up my game, that's all. Winning all that back will be a snap. Nothing to it." He tossed his finished cigarette on the ground and crushed it with the heel of his sneaker. "Nothing to it," he repeated to himself, trying to convince himself that it was true.  
  
Rudol shoved his hands in his pocket and walked away from the fraternity house, leaving behind his misgivings. Maybe he was in denial, but he was in denial that he was in denial, and those had to cancel each other out, right? Right?  
  
\------------------------  
  
Dilan returned to his position in the kitchen, adrenaline coursing through his system. He was pumped up and ready to put their plan in action. This was going to be the greatest theft of all time. Thankfully, the kitchen wasn't too crowded, leaving him with enough space to casually lean against the counter by the desired keg and pull out his phone.  
  
"So, did you manage to throw off the girl?" Dilan glanced up from his phone to find the same ragtag group that he'd encountered earlier looking at him inquisitively.  
  
"Yup," he answered, returning to the text message he was composing. "I managed to lose her somehow, but I figured it'd be safest to hide out in the kitchen for a while anyways." He pressed the 'send' button and snapped his cell phone shut.  
  
_Ready. Set. Go._  
  
"Yeah, we—" one of the boys, a rough-looking punk with dirty blond hair, began, but he was never given the opportunity to finish his sentence. Without warning, the power cut off, and the room was plunged into darkness. Pandemonium ensued, which was rather unnecessary in Dilan's opinion, but he wasn't about to turn down an opportunity to cause havoc in the enemy's territory. Besides, it gave him an even greater opportunity to quickly untap the keg (which, after four years of practice, he was quite skilled at doing efficiently) and flee the scene unnoticed. The last thing he heard was a girl squealing that someone spilled beer down her new shirt and a mournful voice complaining that he had just been sat on and didn't appreciate it.  
  
Dilan plowed through the panicked crowd, shoving aside anyone who was too stupid or drunk to move out of his way. He made a beeline for the door, recognizable only in the pitch black darkness thanks to the light of the streetlamps shining through the window. He stumbled out into the night, still clutching his prize as if the world depended on it, and spotted Aeleus waiting across the street for him. He raised the keg tap to signal victory, and the two of them burst out into laughter, a mixture of sweet triumph and sheer relief that everything went off without a hitch.  
  
" _Yesss!_ " Aeleus said, pounding fists with Dilan and thumping him on the back.  
  
"We are fucking _kings_ ," Dilan proclaimed, tossing the tap in the air and admiring it. The fact that they had stolen it, and from their rivals to boot, made it even more attractive.  
  
"Seriously, dude. By the way, did you ever find out where Rudol disappeared to?" Honestly, Aeleus didn't really care one way or the other what happened to him, but the blond's sudden disappearance did pique his curiosity.  
  
"No clue. Hope he didn't get into any trouble. I'll text him later. But first, I think a celebration is in order." Dilan grinned at Aeleus.  
  
"You know it. And hey, who needs him when you've got your bro?"  
  
"Exactly. Bros gotta stick together, through thick and thin."  
  
"Fuck, yeah." They bumped shoulders and set off down the street to hit up the Sigma Chi fraternity house and brag about the night's exploits. Life couldn't get any better.


	2. Chapter 2

"You owe him _how_ much? Rudy, where the hell do you think you're going to come up with all that money?"  
  
It was the day after he had joined forces with Dilan and Aeleus in crashing the Zeta Beta Tau frat party, and Rudol was spending his Thursday afternoon the same way that he always did: hanging out on the lawn outside the College of Arts and Sciences. Like every other Tuesday and Thursday after his Probability and Statistics class (which he actually quite enjoyed; he had always had a bit of an aptitude for numbers, but clearly this talent did not extend to managing his own finances, as past events had shown), he met up with his two closest friends, L'Erena and Lumaria, after their respective classes had adjourned. Unlike most days, however, Rudol had important news to share. He confided in them the secret of his gambling debts, and judging by L'Erena's reaction, they weren't taking it well.  
  
"I hadn't quite gotten to that yet," he admitted, scratching his head.  
  
Lumaria looked up from where he was manicuring his nails, bright blue eyes peering out from beneath cotton-candy pink fringe. "And I suppose you want us to help you pay it back?" he said, unable to hide the vestiges of skepticism in his voice.  
  
Rudol cast him a wounded look. "Of course not. What kind of friend do you take me for?"  
  
Lumaria merely hummed noncommittally, as if he knew something that the other didn't.  
  
"Look, I can admit that I'm not the most… _scrupulous_ of people, but I haven't sunk quite that low, thank you. Give me some credit, at least. And it's really not that big of a deal," Rudol maintained. "I've won more than that before. You two are blowing this way out of proportion. I'll just have to step up my game, that's all." He attempted to use the same weak argument he had conceived last night to try and convince himself that the amount of money he owed was nothing. He had managed to delude himself into believing that it was true, but unlike himself, his two closest friends didn't appear to be buying it.  
  
L'Erena and Lumaria exchanged glances. "Or you could get a job," L'Erena said.  
  
"There's an opening at the nursery I work at just outside the city," Lumaria added. "I could put in a good word for you." He brightened up and clapped his hands together excitedly. "We can be coworkers! It'll be fun!"  
  
"Sorry, mate, but babysitting plants all day doesn't sound too appealing to me," Rudol said breezily. "Manual labor isn't really my thing."  
Lumaria deflated somewhat. "Well, _I_ like it…" he muttered.  
  
"Besides it's not like I have time for a job anyway." Rudol snorted at the thought. It was inconceivable to him. "No, I'll just do what I do best. A coupla games and a bit of luck, and I'll be golden."  
  
"Yet you have time to gamble away all of your life's savings," L'Erena pointed out, leaning forward on her elbows and fixing him with a _look._  
  
"Would you quit nagging? I have it all under control," Rudol said, annoyance marring his voice. It was starting to aggravate him, this apparent lack of confidence that the two of them had in him. They were his best, and perhaps his only, friends. He had a multitude of acquaintances and casual buddies, but Lumaria and L'Erena were the only two who knew (and accepted) everything about him, flaws and all. However, that didn't keep him from being exasperated by their well-intentioned slights.  
  
L'Erena gave up and didn't press the matter further. "Fine, whatever," she said. "Look, I'm busy tonight, but I'll come with you on Friday night when you go out to keep you from doing anything stupid. Like losing even more money because you don't know when to stop."  
  
"I know perfectly well when to stop," Rudol retorted indignantly. "Just because you're afraid to take a gamble every now and then doesn't mean that I must as well."  
  
Lumaria sighed, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. "Just promise you won't do anything foolish, 'kay? Pinky promise?" he asked, holding out his pinky fingers expectantly.  
  
"And I'm coming anyway," L'Erena reminded him. "Deal?" She hooked her finger with Lumaria's and held up her left pinky for Rudol to take.  
  
"Deal." The three of them interlocked pinkies and shook on it.  
  
The touching moment was soon interrupted by the sound of a cell phone vibrating, and the three broke apart and automatically reached for their respective phones. Rudol's turned out to be the culprit, and he flipped it open to find a text message from Dilan.  
  
 _Dude, where did you disappear to last night? We couldn't find you anywhere._  
  
Ooh. Yeah. After being abducted by an irritated bookie and his gang and finding out that he owed upwards of $1500, he'd forgotten all about Dilan. Well, it wasn't like he didn't have an excuse, he reasoned as he texted him back, fingers flying expertly over the keyboard.  
  
 _Well, I always have been good at hide-and-go-seek. Maybe you just suck at finding me._  
  
Dilan's response was near immediate; clearly, he also had his phone on hand.  
  
 _I never liked hide-and-go-seek._  
  
Rudol grinned to himself.  
  
 _What, is tag more your thing? I'll be at the coffee shop at 3:00 sharp. Catch me if you can._  
  
 _You're on._  
  
 _Then let the games begin._  
  
He ended his text with a virtual wink and snapped his phone shut, looking up at his two friends. "Well, I'm off," he said airily and climbed to his feet. "Got a coffee date." He slung his book bag over his shoulder and lifted his hand in farewell. "Catch you later."  
  
"Yup, see you around."  
  
"Bye, Rudy!"  
  
The two of them watched as Rudol left, ducking around the corner to head for the local café. Once he was out of earshot, L'Erena heaved a dramatic sigh and looked up at Lumaria, who appeared to be upside-down from her vantage point where she was sprawled out on the grass.  
  
"Lulu, what are we going to do with this kid?"  
  
"I haven't a clue," he replied, studiously examining his thumb. "There's not much we can do other than be there for him, since he's clearly not listening to our advice. I guess we'll just have to wait and see. Who knows, maybe he'll surprise us and win it all back, and that'll be the end of that. Do you have a nail file I can borrow?" L'Erena gave him a look. "Never mind, stupid question. You know, Rennie, you should really let me do your nails. Your cuticles are horrendous. No wonder you haven't found a girl yet." He critically eyed her hand.  
  
"I really don't think that girls are going to care about my cuticles, of all things," L'Erena said, rolling her eyes.  
  
"Well, you should at least get rid of that hideous, chipped yellow nail polish. It's _so_ not flattering."  
  
"Lulu?"   
  
"Mmm?"  
  
"Shut up."  
  
\------------------------  
  
To be honest, Dilan was feeling a small twinge of regret over the way he had left last night's frat party without finding Rudol first. Although, in all fairness, Rudol _was_ the one who disappeared without a trace and never bothered to find him afterwards. But still, he felt kind of like an ass for not even texting him until just thirty minutes ago. Now, he glanced down the street, keeping an eye out for the telltale sign for Good Karma, the relatively undiscovered hangout place favored by those who didn't care for the chain corporations that dominated the city. Good Karma was a small, local coffee house tucked away in the corner of a relatively quiet street, an unusual setting in the bustling city. It had an artsy, bohemian vibe about it that Dilan didn't normally go for, but Rudol chose it, and he wasn't about to argue. Besides, he owed him an apology anyways.  
  
Fortunately, it appeared that Rudol bore no grudges. Dilan stepped into the tiny café, the bell attached to the swinging door jingling merrily, to find him sitting at a small table and playing with his phone, his chair tipped back as if he had nary a care in the world. The blond glanced up and beamed at him, sending his chair back on all fours with a bang and tossing his cell phone back into his bag.  
  
"So, we meet again," he greeted.  
  
"Yup," Dilan agreed, taking a seat in the comfortable chair opposite him. "Listen," he began, wanting to get the awkwardness that came with apologizing over with, "sorry about leaving like that last night without even finding out where you were first."  
  
Rudol blinked at him, then laughed in surprise. "Why are you sorry? If anything, it's my fault, not yours."  
  
Well, at least he didn't take any offense to the fact that his boyfriend essentially chose Aeleus over him, which made Dilan feel a little better. Rudol always had been easygoing and not easily ruffled. He opened his mouth to reply when a waitress sauntered up to them, pulling out a pad of paper and a pen from her apron.  
  
"G'afternoon, boys," she said cheerfully. "What can I get you today?"  
  
"I'll have a milky way mocha cappuccino. Extra cinnamon, if you have it."  
  
"Just plain black coffee, thanks."  
  
She jotted down both of their orders and, sticking her pen through the loose bun of red hair piled on top of her head, bustled over to the next table with the promise of a quick delivery.  
  
Dilan and Rudol eyed each other.  
  
"Bore."  
  
"Pussy."  
  
"Honestly, I don't understand how you can drink plain black coffee. It's disgusting and far too bitter." Rudol pulled a face.  
  
"Dude. That's not even _coffee_ you're drinking, it's a freakin' melted candy bar in a cup!"  
  
"Well, then I suppose we'll just have to agree to disagree on the matter."  
  
"Works for me. But yeah, what happened last night anyway? You were right behind me, then I looked back and you were gone."  
  
"Yeah, sorry about that. Some guy that I know literally pulled me away. Couldn't find you afterward 'cause it was too damn crowded. I gave up in the end and just left." Rudol waved a dismissive hand, evading the topic and avoiding details. Instead, he quickly changed the subject. "So, how did the great heist go? Were you successful?"  
  
Sufficiently distracted, Dilan forgot his original question and broke out into a grin. "Hell yeah."  
  
As he recounted their exploits, the waitress returned with their respective coffees and left the bill on the decoupaged table surface. Rudol sipped his cappuccino, savoring the sweet, foamy drink, which tasted of mocha coffee, chocolate, caramel, and the faintest trace of cinnamon. Heaven. "This," he pronounced dramatically, "is an orgasm in a cup."  
  
Dilan rolled his eyes and chose not to comment, instead taking a sip of his own black coffee. None of that overly sweet, disgusting crap for him, thanks. He preferred his coffee strong and slightly bitter, as a man's drink should be.  
  
Rudol set his porcelain cup back down on the table and frowned at the receipt, his brow furrowing slightly. "Hang on," he said, digging around in his messenger bag for some cash to pay his half of the tab. "I know my wallet's in here somewhere…" Unable to find it, he sighed and moved his cappuccino so that he could empty his bag on the table to search for it more thoroughly. A year's worth of debris spilled out, including two handfuls of condoms, a multitude of rumpled papers, and several boxes of cigarettes in varying stages of use.  
  
Dilan raised an eyebrow and picked up one of the thin foil packets. "Jesus, Rudy. Got enough condoms here? S'not like I don't have any of my own, you know."  
  
"I'm a regular Boy Scout," Rudol answered, shuffling through a pile of papers. "Always be prepared. Anyways, you know that the Planned Parenthood reps are always near the plaza handing out samples at the end of the week. I like freebies."  
  
Dilan grunted in comprehension and watched as Rudol continued to pick through the mountain of junk he had accumulated. A black leather playing-card case caught his eye, and he picked it up, interested. He opened it and tipped out a pack of cellophane-encased cards into his hand. "Huh," he said, turning it over to look at it. "How come these aren't opened?"  
  
"Hmm?" Rudol looked up from his search, and his eyes widened. "Don't open those!" he hissed, lunging across the table to snatch them out of his hands and very nearly knocking over his coffee in the process. "That's a mint-condition deck of Jerry's Nugget playing cards, still in their cello wrapper," he whispered reverently.  
  
Dilan blinked at him, uncomprehending. "So?"  
  
Rudol nearly had a conniption. " _So?_ You— you just don't even know— you don't even _know_ just how much these cards are worth. They were made back in the '70s and nothing today can even begin to compare to them." He shook the deck of cards to make his point. "Jerry's Nugget playing cards were made on thick, one of a kind pasteboards, embossed, and finished with a dip coat technique. Not only are they rare, but they're also incredibly high quality. Opening them, let alone _using_ them is practically a crime against nature."  
  
"Then… if you never use them, why do you carry them around? What's the point of even having them?"  
  
Rudol gaped at him. "Spoken like a true heretic. I have plenty of other decks of decent-quality cards to use, but these are my baby. Every collector's dream." He gazed wistfully at his most prized possession and carefully slipped them back into their leather case. "But I suppose people like you wouldn't understand, because to you, everything has to have a practical purpose."  
  
"Okay, okay, forget I said anything." Dilan lifted his hands in defeat. "How the hell do you even know all of this?"  
  
"I am a veritable fountain of information when it comes to this sort of thing, Dilan."  
  
"Your parents must be so proud." Dilan smirked.  
  
"Oh, I'm sure they are. Of course, my mum would rather that I devote more time to my studies, but what does she know? You only live once; might as well enjoy it."  
  
Dilan laughed softly. "Heh. Maybe if you did what your mommy tells you, you wouldn't have bombed that last midterm we took."  
  
"Well, that is hardly my fault," Rudol said indignantly. "How the bloody hell am I supposed to remember fifty Hindu words off the top of my head, let alone be able to apply them to a multitude of concepts like that?"  
  
Before Dilan could answer with a suitable quip, Rudol's phone went off, blaring loudly.  
  
 _"I want your psycho, your vertigo stick. Want you in my rear window, baby you're sick. I want your love. Love, love, love—"_ Rudol scrabbled for his phone and quickly snatched it up, holding up his middle finger in response to Dilan's uncontrollable snickering. "Hullo?" he answered, turning to the side for a bit of privacy. "Oh, hey Lulu. Grabbing a cuppa coffee. Why? What do you _mean_ Even— Okay, okay, calm down," he said, attempting to override a hysterical Lumaria. "Look, I'll be right over. Yeah. _Yes_. Right, see you in a few. Bye." He hung up, shaking his head.  
  
"Nice ringtone," Dilan commented, still smirking. "It suits you well."  
  
"Oh, shut up, would you? It's catchy. And you wouldn't know good music if it slapped you in the face. Lady Gaga is revolutionary."  
  
"Whatever you say, Rudy," he answered in a placating tone.  
  
"Precisely. Now, I hate to cut this short, but I really have to split. My friend's having a personal crisis." He rolled his eyes to show his unwillingness to leave. "And after all that, I still can't find my fucking wallet. I must have left it behind earlier…" he mulled, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Tch. Now what on earth am I supposed to do?" He stared at the price total on the bill and bit his lip.  
  
"Never mind, I got it." Dilan stepped in, pulling out his own wallet to pay for Rudol's coffee.  
  
Rudol's face lit up. "Really? You're a lifesaver, thank you." He finished sweeping the rest of the junk that littered the table back into his book bag and leaned in to kiss Dilan on the cheek. "I'll make it up to you," he whispered in his ear and winked, still grinning from ear-to-ear.   
  
Dilan watched the blond's retreating back as he left, the door to the café swinging behind him. He paid for his drink and Rudol's and stood up, the chair scraping against the floor. He genuinely didn't mind paying for Rudy's coffee as well as his own, but he was starting to run low on cash. He'd have to make a pit stop at the ATM to withdraw some funds from his savings account. He sighed, tossed a two dollar tip on the table for the redheaded waitress, and began the long trek to the bank.  
  
\------------------------  
  
The quick trip to the ATM turned into a small marathon of miscellaneous chores, including a quick trip to the grocery store to restock the fridge – dining hall food got boring after a while, even to those with bottomless pits for stomachs such as himself and Aeleus who would gladly eat any dish served (asides from the vegan entrées; he drew the line at tofu). Finally, three-and-a-half-hours after he first met up with Rudol, Dilan was able to plop down on the sofa and flip through the channels of their small, 14" television for something interesting to watch. Landing upon what he considered to be one of the greatest movies of all time, he clasped his hands behind his head and sat back to watch _Fight Club_. Unfortunately, as luck would have it, someone knocked at the door at that very moment.  
  
Dilan grumbled and hit the mute button on the remote, calling out irritably, "It's open!" The door was unlocked, and he was too lazy to get up and answer it properly.  
  
The door swung open tentatively, and Rudol poked his head into the room. "Is this how you always greet your guests?" he inquired.  
  
"Nice to see you too, Rudy."  
  
A smile played on Rudol's lips as he crossed the threshold. "Hi," he said, approaching the couch where Dilan was sitting. "Sorry for abandoning you earlier like that. It was an emergency of the romantic variety."  
  
"Yeah?" Dilan scooted over to make room for his boyfriend to curl up next to him on the couch.  
  
"Mmm. I really should stop responding to Lulu's periodic freak-outs. He's one of my best friends, but he's too sensitive for his own good and that, coupled with a moody geek of a boyfriend who exhibits signs of PMS, leads to a lot of fights. Which means that Rennie and I have to be there for him with a tub of strawberry ice-cream when he gets into these states." His lips twisted into an odd smile as he mindlessly played with the piercing in his left earlobe.  
  
"That's nice of you," Dilan said, perfectly aware that he was being woefully inarticulate. Still, he felt strangely touched that Rudol chose to share this piece of his life with him; the blond never was one to talk much about such personal matters, and confiding in Dilan about his relationship with his friend was a rare, significant encounter.  
  
"Yeah," Rudol said. "But that's what friends are for, right? At least this had a happy ending. Last I heard, the two of them were snogging in the hallway by the elevators. Lulu has no shame."  
  
Dilan snorted. "Like you do."  
  
Rudol flashed him a grin. "At least I can admit it," he said cheerfully. "But on a different note, what're your plans for the weekend?"  
  
"No clue." He shrugged. Most plans weren't made until the morning before; neither he nor Aeleus were big on long-term planning. "I'm free whenever, if that's what you're asking. You?"  
  
"Can't do tomorrow night," Rudol said and reached into his pocket for a pack of Marlboros. "I'm playing Blackjack with the boys. But I'll text you when I'm available, yeah?"  
  
"Sure." Dilan watched as Rudol tapped the carton against the palm of his hand, tipping out a single cigarette. "Don't even think about it," he warned. "If you blaze up in here and the smoke detector goes off, I'm kicking you out."  
  
"Relax, I wasn't going to actually light it," Rudol replied, smoothly sliding the cigarette back into its package. "Anyways, is Aeleus home?" he inquired casually, eyes scanning the small, cramped apartment.  
  
"Nah, he's still stuck in class."  
  
"Excellent." Rudol grinned widely. "Because I've come to collect on that little I.O.U. of yours."  
  
Dilan smirked and folded his arms, leaning back into the couch. "Oh yeah? Let's hear it."  
  
"Well," Rudol drawled, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Payment through oral gratification has always been an idea that appealed to me. So," he concluded, dropping his voice conspiratorially, "I want you to suck me off."  
  
"I'm all for it, but I'm gonna have to take a rain check on that one. Aeleus gets out at 7:00, and it's 6:55 right now."  
  
"I can be quick."  
  
"Sorry, Rudy, but I'm not about to risk getting caught. It's not all about the sex, you know."  
  
Rudol looked thoroughly put out for a split second, as if he was going to argue, but the expression vanished before it could register in Dilan's mind. "Oh, fine. But I still owe you for leaving you with the bill earlier. Can I make it up to you with a kiss, and we'll call it even?" He gave him a lopsided smile, and Dilan could feel himself yielding.  
  
"I think I can handle that," he answered and leaned in, sealing the distance between the two of them.  
  
Of course, with Rudol, a kiss was never just a kiss. He never did things halfway, whether it was impulsively deciding to get a new piercing, cleaning up at poker, or, yes, kissing. With him, it was all or nothing, and the next thing Dilan knew, Rudol had pulled him down on top of him, and they were kissing as a gun fired soundlessly and shouts went unheard on the muted television screen in front of them.  
  
Unfortunately, giving it his all also meant that Rudol was liable to casually slide his hands down the other's back and cop a feel, and Dilan had to move his groping hands when they strayed into forbidden territory, as prudish as it made him feel. It wasn't as if he didn't want it—god, no, he wanted it more than anything else at the moment, but he knew, he just _knew_ that if Rudol went _there_ , he'd give into the temptation and end up going further than he should. He wouldn't be able to rein himself in, and the last thing he wanted was for Aeleus to come home to find his roommate and his boyfriend banging on the couch. He had too much dignity for that.  
  
"Okay," Dilan said, pulling away. "Okay. Time for you to get going. Ae'll be back in a few."  
  
"Fine," Rudol relented, stretching out catlike on the couch before swinging himself up into a seated position. "If you insist." He leaned over Dilan, one hand teasing at the bottom of his shirt. "But, you know, I'm sure Aeleus wouldn't mind steering clear of the bedroom for fifteen minutes or so…"  
  
Dilan playfully smacked him on the ass with a roll of his eyes and jerked his head at the door. "Oh, get out of here," he said, but he couldn't help but crack a smile.  
  
"Alright, alright, I see you're eager to be rid of me." Rudol hopped off of the couch and slung his bag over his shoulder. "But, hey, you know where to find me if you change your mind…" He began walking backwards to the door, raising his eyebrows suggestively and lifting his hand to his ear to mimic a phone. "Call me," he mouthed, a predatory smile on his face, before finally leaving the room.  
  
The door shut behind him with a click. Dilan shook his head despairingly and resumed watching the satisfying ending of the movie. The credits had just started rolling when Aeleus arrived home, carrying a bag of fast food. Sitting in a three hour lecture that cut into dinnertime with no food allowed in the lecture hall was, to say the least, brutal.  
  
"Yo, Aeleus–" Dilan began, but stopped when he caught sight of the look on Aeleus's face. He had been friends with Aeleus long enough to know when something was wrong, and the tenseness in his actions and the way his brows knit together were a clear indicator that he wasn't in the best of moods. Dilan frowned. "What's up?"  
  
"Nothing," Aeleus grumbled and pulled his dinner out of the paper bag. He'd already eaten the majority of his French fries on his way home and now took a large bite of his cheeseburger. "Just some stupid thing that happened with Ienzo earlier."  
  
"Trouble in paradise?" Dilan joined Aeleus, pulling out one of the three chairs at the tiny kitchen table and straddling it.  
  
"You could say that."  
  
"Tough break, man," Dilan said sympathetically. "You gonna eat that?" He pointed at the remainder of the French fries. Aeleus shook his head and slid the grease-stained container across the table. "What happened, anyway?"  
  
"Like I said, it was stupid." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "So, I had stopped by Ienzo's room before class to say hi – and wipe that fucking smirk off your face, I know what you're thinking – when some Flaming Oceans song comes on the radio. So he runs over to the radio to turn it up, which kind of pisses me off because, dude, we were _busy_. Then I tell him, 'Sometimes I think you like that Myde guy more than me. Why don't you just go run off into his arms then?'" He paused to bite into his burger again.  
  
"Yeah?" Dilan prompted, shoving another fry in his mouth.  
  
"Yeah, so he just flips his hair and goes, 'Oh, please.'" His voice took on a sarcastic tone as he mimicked, "'As if the great Myde, lead singer of Flaming Oceans would ever notice someone like me. Besides, if the tabloids are right, he's already found himself a flame.'" He dropped the mocking voice and scowled. "Not what I wanted to hear. Who the fuck says that to their boyfriend?"  
  
"I never liked the kid," Dilan said through a mouthful of fries. "Listen, Rudy's busy tomorrow night. I'll buy you a drink."  
  
"Can't," Aeleus said dully. "I've got a ten page paper due by midnight tomorrow night and I haven't even started writing it yet. I'm gonna be living in the library the whole fucking night."  
  
"Damn. That sucks." Dilan finished off the last of the fries. "Okay, about Ienzo: stick it out, man," he advised. "It was a dick move of him to pull, yeah, and I don't like him that much, but you do. Everyone's got their flaws, and he probably didn't even realize that he was being a total ass about it." It took him every ounce of willpower he possessed to refrain from making a comment about why this was, implying that Ienzo was an antisocial freak, but his self-control prevailed. "See how it goes, and talk to him if it still bothers you later."  
  
"Wow," Aeleus mused. "That was actually kind of deep. I didn't know you had that much of a brain."  
  
"Shut up, asshole. Are you finishing that burger or not?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can tell that I wrote this fic in 2010 bc of the numerous Lady Gaga references.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey, bro, I'm going to head down to the FitRec," Dilan called from the bedroom, referring to their university's large state-of-the-art Fitness and Recreation Center where he and Aeleus, as student athletes, spent an unhealthy amount of time.   
  
"Can't, sorry," Aeleus replied dully, "Gotta start working on that paper that's due tonight. And I forgot that Ienzo's coming over for a bit before I head down to the library."   
  
"Good luck with that, man," Dilan said, emerging from the bedroom and heading for the fridge to grab a bottle of water.   
  
"Yeah, I'll need it."    
  
"It'll work out. See you later." With that, Dilan slung his sports bag over his shoulder and departed for the gym.   
  
As the door swung shut behind his roommate, Aeleus sighed, cracked open his textbook, flipped open his laptop, and stared at the screen blankly, waiting for inspiration to hit him. He always found it impossible to get any work done in the apartment, even when he made an effort to eliminate any and all distractions. Simply being in the space where he hung out, slept, and avoided academic obligations made him unable to focus. Unfortunately, he had to wait for Ienzo to arrive before he could leave for the library. Ienzo's final class on Fridays was on the same end of campus as Aeleus's apartment, so he often dropped by after class was dismissed and had offered to walk Aeleus to the library on his way home. That was before the events of yesterday, however, and currently Aeleus was not looking forward to seeing him. He was already in enough of a sour mood thanks to the stress of his impending deadline (there was  _ no fucking way _ he was going to finish this paper by midnight and he should have started it earlier and  _ goddammit… _ ), and he was still sore over Ienzo's comment from last night.   
  
Thirty minutes later, he'd only written three sentences when he heard the knocking on the door that signaled Ienzo's arrival. He sighed and got up to let him in.   
  
"Hello, Aeleus," Ienzo said, breezing into the room, practically radiating fury. "You will not  _ believe _ the day I have been having. My professor only gave me a 92 on my midterm, which is, quite frankly, unacceptable," he raged, hanging his bag on a chair and sinking down onto the couch. His ordinarily cool, calm, and collected demeanor had vanished entirely.   
  
"Mmm," Aeleus intoned monotonously and slumped off to the kitchen to grab a can of soda from the fridge. Instead of returning with his soda in hand and joining Ienzo on the couch, however, he stayed put and leaned against the kitchen counter, avoiding eye contact and physically distancing himself from the smaller boy. Ienzo didn't notice, preoccupied as he was with recounting his day, and continued prattling on about his misfortune.   
  
"Further _ more _ , he informed me that I must redo my lab hours in order to receive credit, because my supervising professor apparently never signed the slip that confirmed that I completed my twelve hours as an experiment subject. As if it's my fault that an incompetent, overpaid excuse for a researcher didn't do what I explicitly told her she needed to do! I am distraught, Aeleus, and this cannot be good for my complexion." With one final huff of indignation, he waited expectantly for Aeleus's reaction, but the anticipated words of comfort never came.    
  
Ienzo frowned. Aeleus never was overly talkative, but he was being exceptionally silent today. What's more, it wasn't typical for Aeleus to be so reclusive and avoid making physical contact with him.   
  
"Okay, I'll bite," he said finally. "You've been acting strangely since I walked through the door. What's the matter?"   
  
"Nothing's the matter," Aeleus shot back defensively, his voice louder and more aggressive than he intended it to be.   
  
"Well, clearly something is the matter if you're speaking to me in such a manner," Ienzo replied matter-of-factly, remaining as calm as ever.   
  
Aeleus gritted his teeth. Okay, so maybe he did understand why Dilan found Ienzo downright annoying at times. He could never lose his temper and shout and act like a typical pissy college kid — no, he had to be  _ reasonable _ and  _ talk things out _ , when all Aeleus felt like doing was having a full-scale argument with lots of shouting and slamming doors and blowing off steam. Ienzo's lack of cooperation was, to be perfectly honest, aggravating.   
  
"So, what's wrong?" Ienzo pried.    
  
Aeleus crossed his arms sullenly. "If you don't know, I'm not telling you," he said petulantly. Being petty and vindictive was, surprisingly enough, making him feel much better.   
  
Ienzo rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Aeleus, don't be childish," he scoffed. "What kind of relationship is this if we cannot be honest with each other? Tell me what's bothering you. Was it something I said?"   
  
Aeleus mumbled something indistinguishable under his breath. Ienzo eyed him critically, trying to decipher him, but Aeleus wasn't giving him any clues. He sighed and brushed his bangs out of his face, thinking back to their last meeting and trying to recall anything he might have said or done to upset his boyfriend so.   
  
The silence stretched awkwardly, with Aeleus remaining in the kitchen and Ienzo curled up on the couch. The counter that divided the open area of the kitchen from the remainder of the small, four-room apartment served as a physical barrier between them. A new song came on the radio, bringing with it the distinctive drumbeats, the wailing of a bass guitar, and above it all, the voice of the rock star that carried Flaming Oceans to fame.    
  
Ienzo perked up a little. "Oh, I love this song!"   
  
"I don't," Aeleus said bluntly and leaned over to switch off the radio, cutting the music off abruptly.   
  
A slow smile spread across Ienzo's face as the puzzle pieces fell into place and he realized the reason for Aeleus's moodiness. "I see," he said knowingly, "you're  _ jealous. _ "   
  
"I'm not jealous. Why would I be jealous of some dumb blond with no talent and too much hair gel?"   
  
"Yes you are," Ienzo said, still grinning annoyingly as he got up from the couch and sauntered over to Aeleus. "You. Are. Jealous," he sang and hopped onto the kitchen counter, crossing his legs neatly. " _ Why _ you are jealous is, of course, beyond me. Surely you've had some sort of celebrity crush in the past before? Like, I don't know, who do you idolize...?" He waved his hand around vaguely, grasping for a name. "The Rock or whoever?" he finished lamely.   
  
Aeleus stared at him. "No. No, I can honestly say that I have never had a celebrity crush on The Rock. You're putting really disturbing images in my head."   
  
"Whatever," Ienzo said dismissively. "It was an example. My point is that, yes, I greatly admire Myde and all, but you are not him. He is a rock star."   
  
"Yeah, I know," a disgruntled Aeleus muttered, scowling at his can of soda to avoid meeting Ienzo's gaze. "And he's not even that famous in the first place," he added under his breath, his voice bitter.    
  
"That didn't come out quite right, did it?" Ienzo mused to himself. For someone so intelligent, Ienzo was a remarkably poor judge of appropriate social interactions and tact. "Let me set this straight, so that you don't misunderstand me. He is not you. He doesn't know me like you know me. He doesn't know that I attend psychology lectures for fun, or that my favorite food is pickled vegetables, or that I prefer boxers over briefs on other men but not on myself. You do. And you are the only one I want." From his perch on the counter, he was at the perfect height to lean in and kiss Aeleus on the forehead, which he did. "Now will you stop worrying and come join me on the couch so we can kiss and make up before you have to leave for the library?"   
  
Aeleus lifted his eyes from the can of soda he'd been staring at resolutely and met Ienzo's gaze for the first time all day, his face stony and expressionless. For one long, horrible moment, Ienzo was afraid that he was still mad at him. As Aeleus scrutinized him, the smaller boy maintained eye contact with him, trying to telepathically convey his sincerity. After what seemed like an eternity to him, Aeleus finally cracked a small smile. "Okay," he said simply and placed his hands on Ienzo's hips, leaning in for a brief kiss.   
  
With a relieved smile, Ienzo looped his arms around his boyfriend's neck and wrapped his legs around his waist. "Carry me," he ordered, and Aeleus obliged, easily bringing him over to the couch with little effort on his part. Ienzo curled up into his side, resting his head on his broad chest. "I must say, I do find your jealousy endearing, though." He smiled. "It's sweet."   
  
Aeleus made a face at the remark.   
  
"What's with the expression?"   
  
"'Sweet' isn't exactly the word I'd use to describe myself. It's not manly."   
  
"Well, you also happen to be an insufferable wet blanket who is too concerned with his macho manliness to comprehend when I am giving you a compliment."   
  
"'Sweet' it is," Aeleus relented with a sigh and a roll of his eyes, leaning in to kiss Ienzo on the nose.    
  
There was a scuffling noise at the door, and not two seconds later, the door swung open to announce Dilan's return. He gagged at the sight of Aeleus and Ienzo snuggling on the couch and griped, "Oh, get a room, you two," but he had to hide a smirk.   
  
"We did. You're in it," Ienzo replied scathingly.    
  
"Ooh,  _ burn _ ," Aeleus jeered.   
  
Even Dilan had to laugh. "So, you two lovebirds made up?" he drawled, tossing his gym bag haphazardly on the floor. Ienzo winced as a sweaty shirt spilled out of it and made a valiant effort to ignore his latent OCD tendencies that itched at him to throw the offending article of clothing in the laundry hamper.    
  
"Once I determined what it was that was making him so resentful, being as woefully unhelpful that he is, yes, we did," he answered as he reluctantly tore himself away from his boyfriend and climbed off of the couch. "But enough chitchat. I believe I am correct in saying that you need to head to the library, Aeleus? That paper won't write itself, you know."   
  
"Yeah, yeah, you're right…" Aeleus muttered, but he appeared to be in a much better mood than before. "Catch you later, bro," he said to Dilan, bumping fists with him as he passed by him on his way to the door.    
  
"Later, man."   
  
Aeleus played the part of the gentleman and held the door open for Ienzo while giving Dilan, who was sniggering and pretending to crack a whip (out of Ienzo's line of sight, mercifully), an entirely un-gentlemanlike gesture.   
  
Dilan snickered as the door shut behind Aeleus and Ienzo and, with his source of entertainment gone, left the room to hit the showers.    
  
\------------------------   
  
"So what's the plan again?" L'Erena half-shouted as she and Rudol weaved through the crowded, smoke-filled club, where the most recent single by The Gullwings was blaring over the speakers and making it difficult to be heard.   
  
"Take your advice when offered, don't go out on a limb and make risky decisions, and quit while I'm ahead," Rudol parroted. "Don't worry, Rennie," he reassured her. "Between you and me, we're gonna make a million tonight. It'll be brilliant. M'over here," he added, leading the way to the regular table in the far corner of the room where three out of his usual four card-playing buddies were lounging.    
  
"Boys," he announced as he drew close, "I'd like you to meet L'Erena. She's a friend of mine who's come to watch the game. And no, I'm not planning on using her to cheat," he said, heading off any arguments before they were fired. "She's just going to be my, ah, advisor. L'Erena, this is Cid, Leon, and Cloud," he said, pointing out each of the men as they were named. Pleasantries and nods of hello were exchanged, and Rudol pulled up chairs for himself and L'Erena. "Where's Setzer?" he asked.   
  
"Where do you think?" Cid said with a jerk of his head in the general direction of the bar, where a well-coiffed, elegant-looking man was making his advances on a young, supple woman.   
  
"Oh," Rudol said, blatant dislike edging his voice. "Why am I not surprised? And here I was, thinking that maybe I got lucky and he wouldn't show tonight." He didn't care much for the flashy, flamboyant ladies' man, not least due to his gambling prowess. As an accomplished gambler in his own right, Setzer consistently jeopardized Rudol's chances of winning, and the blond felt all too threatened by him.    
  
"Lovely," L'Erena said dryly, clearly unimpressed. "I'm going to get a drink. Don't wait up. And don't do anything  _ stupid _ while I'm gone, Rudy," she informed him, delivering a warning punch to his shoulder. With that parting shot, she left and began the winding journey up to the bar.    
  
Leon laughed lowly. "She's a maneater, that one."   
  
"You have no idea." Rudol grimaced and rubbed his shoulder. "I'm going to have a bruise there now."    
  
"Toughen up, ya big sissy," Cid said roughly, dismissing Rudol's apparent pain. "Anyways, boys, I thought we'd try somethin' a little bit different today," he continued, withdrawing one slim cigarette from the pack he always kept on hand. Cid Highwind, regular bartender at The Flying Dutchman, was a legendary chain-smoker and was nearly always found with a lit cigarette in his mouth. In smoke-free establishments, he had to resort to chewing on a toothpick, but quite frankly, he preferred to avoid such places. "Losing hand buys the winner a drink. How's that sound?"   
  
"You're only saying that because you can get drinks free of charge," Leon said shrewdly, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded across his chest.   
  
Cid gave a short bark of laughter. "What can I say?" he rasped. "You know me too well, kid. You in or not?" Leon nodded his assent.   
  
"So it's every man for himself," Cloud spoke up, turning the proposal over in his mind. "No holds barred. Count me in."    
  
"I'm game," said Rudol, who, being reckless and impulsive and possessing a very poor sense of judgment, never thought things through before he agreed to them. His conscience was still fighting her way through the crowd to the bar, and all monetary concerns had left his head with the prospect of an exciting game of blackjack and free drinks ahead of him.   
  
"I am in as well. Rudol," said a rich, deep voice from behind him, its owner placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. Rudol twisted around in his seat to find himself face to face with Setzer Gabbiani, the fifth and final member of their poker circle, who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. "How about you throw this first hand for me?" he asked silkily, keeping his voice low and conspiratorial. "There's a pretty little lady who has her eye on me, and I can't afford to risk losing while she's watching."   
  
"How about not?" Rudol deadpanned in reply, shaking his perfectly manicured hand off his shoulder.   
  
"I can pay you quite handsomely," Setzer persisted.    
  
"In cash?" he asked, his interest piqued, though he would never admit it.   
  
"No, but I can ensure that you'll receive free drinks at The Blackjack Pub for a month."   
  
"Tempting, but no. You irritate me."   
  
"I suspect that the only reason you find me irritating is because you view me as a threat."   
  
"Hardly." Rudol bristled at the insinuation. "The fact that you have to ask me to throw the game for you means that, if anything,  _ I'm _ a threat to  _ you _ ." He would never admit that the accusation was true, not even to himself.   
  
"Hey! You two going to quit bickering and play?" Cid frowned at the two of them, tapping ash off the end of his cigarette into the ceramic ashtray on the table.   
  
"May the best man win," Setzer said and took his place, carefully folding his coat beneath him as he sat down to avoid wrinkling it.   
  
"You're on," Rudol muttered out of the corner of his mouth.   
  
Cid dealt the cards out to each player, and Rudol let out a satisfied hiss at the 20 he received. Pretty damn good, and hopefully a sign of good luck in future rounds. He glanced sidelong at Setzer's cards and was delighted to find that he had landed a hard 16, which was undoubtedly the worst hand one could receive in Blackjack. He was too busy gloating internally to notice the slow, rare smile that curved Cloud's lips.   
  
"Blackjack," the stoic blond said simply. There was a moment's silence as all heads turned to look at the King and Ace laid in front of him, then the table exploded in laughter, with a stunned Rudol and Setzer joining in good-naturedly.   
  
"I guess we know who the best man is now, huh?" Leon said.   
  
"You wish," Rudol shot back with a grin, snickering while Setzer sighed dramatically and whipped out his wallet to buy Cloud a beer.    
  
\------------------------   
  
Meanwhile, L'Erena was still fighting her way tooth and nail through a gaggle of girls to reach the bar on the opposite side of the room. Under ordinary circumstances, she may have taken the time to appreciate their good looks, but at the moment, she just found them flat out annoying. "Would you fucking  _ move _ ?" she groused, giving one black-haired chick in neon eyeliner a particularly hard shove and stumbling off to the sanctuary of the bar. "Some people, I swear…" she mumbled to herself. "I'll have an electric martini, thanks," she addressed the bartender.   
  
L'Erena drummed her fingers idly against the countertop as he prepared her drink, casting her gaze around the room until her eyes landed on a pretty, slight girl only three seats away from her. She felt a sudden jolt unlike no other, a lightning bolt that ran straight to her skivvies. The girl was young – a freshman, most likely – and small for her age, but she also happened to be the most gorgeous girl L'Erena had ever laid eyes on, with honey-blonde hair and milky-white skin. She was perched on her barstool with her legs crossed and her hands folded on her lap, clearly uncomfortable in the crowded, suffocating atmosphere. Her bright blue eyes flitted around the room nervously, but she had not yet noticed the taller girl a few seats away from her.   
  
L'Erena shook her head to try and clear her mind, slightly unnerved by the sudden attraction that pulled her magnetically towards the other girl. She wet her lips, trying to decide whether or not she should approach her before choosing to take the plunge. She had the strangest sensation that if she didn't strike up a conversation with the mysterious stranger, she would regret it for the rest of her life. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she spoke up. "What's a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?" Her voice was strident but her smile gentle, as not to scare the girl off before she got a chance to get to know her.    
  
The girl glanced up quickly, startled, and turned bright red. "Oh…" she began, and an already-smitten L'Erena marveled over her soft voice, as smooth and sweet as honey. "My friends dragged me along with them to go clubbing," she admitted, gesturing towards the circle of girls on the dance floor that L'Erena had fought her way through.    
  
The same black-haired girl that L'Erena had shoved aside caught the blonde's gaze and called, lifting her beer in greeting, "Hey, Nami, are you sure you don't want to join us?"   
  
Nami, as she was presumably called, shook her head and raised her voice to answer, "No, Xi, I'm fine. Have fun." She turned back to L'Erena and finished somewhat shyly, "But, um, I'm not really into that scene…"   
  
L'Erena laughed quietly and slid into the barstool two seats away from the other girl, accepting her drink from the bartender. "I can't blame you there," she said. "I can't dance to save my life, and I don't see what's so appealing about crowding together on a tiny dance floor with a bunch of other girls and getting all sweaty and gross while some strange, perverted guy you've never seen before in your life tries to grind up against you."   
  
To her pleasant surprise, the girl's face lit up with a smile and she giggled girlishly. "Finally, someone who gets it! It seems like all of my friends think I'm strange for not liking to go out clubbing, but it's just not fun for me. But I always come along anyways because it's better than sitting in my dorm room alone on Friday nights." She sighed somewhat wistfully and fiddled with the hem of her short white dress. "Oh! Um, I'm Nami, by the way. It's nice to meet you…?" she trailed off, realizing that she didn't know the older girl's name.   
  
"L'Erena," she quickly supplied.   
  
"L'Erena," Nami finished, beaming at her.    
  
With a sudden pang of guilt, L'Erena craned her neck to peer at the table in the back of the room where the boys had started their game of blackjack without her. Rudol seemed to be doing well off so far; he'd clearly just won a hand, if the smug expression on his face was anything to go by. A resigned Leon was pulling some bills out of his wallet. Reassured that Rudol appeared to be making some money, L'Erena returned her attentions back to the girl, telling herself that she'd go check on him soon. "Well, Nami," she said charmingly, "can I buy you a drink?"   
  
The younger girl looked taken-aback for a moment, then broke out into a shy smile. "I'd love that," she confessed. "Um, could I get a virgin piña colada?"    
  
"A virgin piña colada it is." L'Erena ordered Nami's drink, and soon found herself immersed in one of the most enjoyable conversations she'd had in, well,  _ ever _ . There was just something about the girl – 18 years old, an art major, and easily one of the sweetest and most genuine people she had ever met – that drew her in.    
  
Half an hour later, Nami fiddled with the paper umbrella that came with her now-finished piña colada and, plucking up her courage, asked, "Um, I hope you don't mind, but I have a bit of a headache and even though I love talking with you like this, I'm still a little on edge in here with all the noise and the crowd and the smoke and everything…"    
  
L'Erena felt her heart sink into her stomach as Nami trailed off.    
  
Clearing her throat, the younger girl tried again. "Um, so what I'm trying to say is: would you like to go for a walk with me and get away from here?"   
  
Her heart shot back up again. L'Erena couldn't help but grin idiotically before regaining control of herself. "I'd love to," she said fervently. "Just — lemme clarify with Rudy first —you know, the guy I told you I came here with— gotta make sure that he'll be okay without me breathing down his neck — I'll be right back—" She stumbled over her words in her haste and hopped off the barstool to make her way back to Rudol, looking over her shoulder at Nami as if afraid that she'd vanish the minute she left.   
  
"Sorry, I have to borrow Rudol real quick," L'Erena apologized the minute she reached the table, yanking the blond away from his card game so she could talk to him in private.   
  
"Ow, my arm."   
  
"Look, I'll make this quick," L'Erena began, ignoring him entirely. She glanced over to where Nami was sitting perched on her barstool, those big blue eyes of hers flitting around the room anxiously. "I just met this cute chick who's really sweet and everything I could've ever dreamed of, but she's uncomfortable here, so she suggested that we go for a walk, but…"    
  
"Then go!" Rudol encouraged emphatically. "You deserve it, Rennie. Don't worry about me. I'm a big boy; I can take care of myself."   
  
L'Erena narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Okay, but you've got to  _ swear _ that you'll keep your promise—"   
  
"I swear!" he maintained. "I swear on my mother's nonexistent grave. I'm on a winning streak. It's all good."   
  
"Don't let it get to your head," she warned. "Quit early if you have to, alright? You can't afford to lose any more money tonight."   
  
"I will. Now go! Have fun. Get some ass tonight, 'cause I know I am."   
  
L'Erena laughed and squeezed his shoulder affectionately as she began walking away. "I don't know about the ass part, but I'd be thrilled with just a peck on the cheek. She's special, Rudy, I'm telling you." With that, she bade him adieu and disappeared into the crowd once more to find Nami.    
  
Rudol rubbed his right arm, which L'Erena had nearly pulled out of its socket, and winced; it was the same arm that she had punched earlier. At least the alcohol dulled the pain somewhat. He'd just finished his third beer and had miraculously managed to avoid paying out of his own pocket for someone else's drink. Even if he wasn't always the winner, he had yet to be the holder of the worst hand, and he was feeling pretty damn good about himself right now. He chalked it up to his skills and the benevolence of Lady Luck and headed back to the table, determined to kick some more ass.    
  
\------------------------   
  
In the span of twenty minutes or so, Rudol had gone from being pleasantly buzzed to completely hammered. It was only a matter of time until his winning streak was broken and he came off worst in a hand. His inhibitions lowered by the alcohol, he became cocky and overconfident and took an extra card on a whim when it would have been prudent to stand. Of course, he was too proud (and drunk) to accept a loss, and a tussle broke out between him and Setzer over who had the worst hand.   
  
"Of course a 25 is worse than a 17, jackass. You screwed up and went completely over the limit!"   
  
"I don't know what you're on about. A 25 is four away from 21, and a 17 is four away from 21. The big difference between you and me is, asides from you being a bloody moron an' me being a genius, is that you're too chicken to hit when you've got a sucky hand!" Rudol turned to Leon, the winner of the hand, who was looking supremely bored. "What say you, Leon? D'you reckon that a 17's worse than a 25?"   
  
"I really don't care. At this point, I'll just buy my own beer."    
  
"See, I'm right!" Rudol said triumphantly, swiveling back around to face Setzer and almost losing his balance entirely.   
  
"How on earth do you get '17 is worse than a 25' out of—"   
  
"Okay, game over," Cid, who was getting sick of the petty squabbling, said loudly as he broke up the argument. "This ain't recess time. I've had enough of the immature bickering. And I'm cuttin' you off," he added, pointing a finger at Rudol. "Now get the hell outta here, all of you." There was a note of finality in his voice that no one, except for Rudol, that is, dared to argue with.    
  
"One more drink?" he wheedled.    
  
"No," Cid said flatly. "Now beat it before I toss you out myself. My shift starts in ten minutes, and I'm not havin' you bums hanging around here."   
  
"Fine, fine. You win, old man."   
  
"Don't call me old, you little punk—"   
  
"Give it a rest, Cid," Leon said, climbing to his feet and throwing his jacket over his shoulder. "He's only doing it to get a rise out of you. See you next week."   
  
The four of them left a scowling Cid behind and made their way to the door, Rudol cheerfully slinging an arm around Leon's and Cloud's necks and using them as support so he didn't have to expend as much energy trying to walk in a straight line. Neither one of them was particularly enthused by the situation and exchanged long-suffering looks, but they put up with it until they made it outside, where they simultaneously dumped him off of their shoulders.    
  
After exchanging farewells, Leon and Cloud parted and set off down the street together in the direction of their dormitory building, while Setzer disappeared into the night with the pretty woman from before on his arm. Left alone to his own devices, Rudol hummed a little ditty to himself and scrolled through the contacts on his phone to determine his plans for the remainder of the night. Right now, he wanted one thing and one thing only, and his thinking was being driven not by his brain but by another major external organ. He highlighted Dilan's name and snapped his phone shut with a grin.   
  
\------------------------   
  
L'Erena and Nami strolled down the streets together, the neon lights of the city lighting their way. They had begun a never-ending game of Truth, and L'Erena was regaling Nami with a tale about her most embarrassing moment, which sent the younger girl into peals of laughter, so much that she had to stop walking to catch her breath again.   
  
"And  _ then _ , the guy calls me back, like, 'Miss, you forgot your wallet!' So I tried to turn around on the escalator and climb the few steps to reach the upper floor again, but I tripped and fell, so I had to ride the escalator the rest of the way down, go around to the up escalator, and retrieve my wallet in front of the entire line of people who had witnessed the whole thing. And to add insult to injury, my leg bled the entire way home from when I scraped it on the moving stairs. I told my mom a cat scratched me, but I don't think she believed me."   
  
Nami's giggles finally died down as L'Erena wrapped up her story, and she wiped a single tear from the corner of her eye. "I'm so sorry," she tried to apologize, "It's really not funny…"   
  
"Sure it is," L'Erena replied, grinning down at her. "Don't worry, I'm not above laughing at myself. My turn to ask a question." She hummed as she thought, probing around for a topic that hadn't been covered yet. "Tell me about your last relationship," she finally decided, her heartbeat quickening slightly as she tried to remain nonchalant on the outside. In a rare bout of shyness, she glanced sidelong at the younger girl, entranced by the way the pink glow of the neon lights illuminated her delicate face.   
  
Nami's cheeks turned pink, and L'Erena got the distinct impression that it wasn't due to the lighting. "Well," she said slowly, suddenly very interested in braiding her hair, "I've actually never been in a relationship before." She hesitated before adding, "Boy or girl. So there's not much to tell. No one's ever been interested in a quiet, invisible girl like me, and I guess staying inside drawing all day didn't help with that," she added pensively.   
  
L'Erena chanced another glance at her before returning her gaze to her well-worn Chucks scuffing the pavement. "Well," she said, her voice firm. Her heart was still beating a tattoo into her chest. "They don't know what they're missing out on." She slipped her hand into Nami's lacing their fingers together. To her surprise, the other girl didn't pull away. She took this as a sign of encouragement and looked up to find Nami smiling rapturously at her.   
  
A moment of silence passed as they continued walking hand-in-hand before Nami asked, "What's one thing in your life that you've always wanted to do but never had the opportunity?"   
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
"Well, like for me, I've always wanted to go to the beach and watch the waves rolling in, lapping against the shore."   
  
"You've never been to the beach?"   
  
"No," she said wistfully. "It's one of my biggest dreams. My friend Xion brought me back some seashells from when she went to the beach, and every time I look at them, I think about the seashore and how beautiful and peaceful it is there. Now it's your turn to answer."   
  
L'Erena thought for a moment before slowly starting, "Well, there is something that I've been wanting to do…"   
  
"What?"   
  
"This." They slowed to a stop as L'Erena took Nami's other hand into her own and, before she could change her mind, leaned down to press a gentle, light kiss against her lips. All she could think about as Nami kissed her back, hesitantly at first but slowly gaining confidence, was that Nami tasted sweet. Sweet, she thought, like honey.   
  
\------------------------   
  
Somehow, Rudol managed to make it down to Dilan's apartment without getting hopelessly lost in his alcohol-addled state. It was miraculous, really. The security guard gave him a suspicious look when he flashed his ID but let him in nonetheless. Once he reached the apartment door, he didn't bother knocking, simply tested the doorknob to find that it was unlocked. He flung the door open dramatically.   
  
"Hey," he said loudly by means of announcing his presence. He planted both his hands in the doorframe and tilted his chin upwards as he scanned the room for Dilan.   
  
"Dude, what the—" A startled Dilan emerged from the bedroom, freaked out by the sudden intrusion, but he cut himself off upon noticing Rudol in his doorway, look disheveled, oversexed, and entirely desirable. "Oh,  _ hello _ there," he said, raising one eyebrow and grinning lopsidedly. "What're you doing here?"   
  
Rudol swung the door shut behind him with his foot in a surprising display of grace and ambled up to him. "Well," he drawled, hooking his arms around Dilan's neck. "Why don't you take a guess? Here, I'll even give you a hint." He seductively rubbed his groin up against Dilan's leg to get his point across.    
  
"I need you inside me," he stage-whispered, his voice thick with lust. He paused and looked down, grinding experimentally against him again and enjoying the silky feel of the baggy basketball shorts that Dilan was wearing. "Also, I love these shorts."   
  
Dilan managed to turn his laugh into a semi-convincing cough, but he wasn't able to keep the corners of his mouth from twitching. "Yeah? How did we go from 'fuck me now' to fashion?"   
  
"I wasn't talking about fashion, you twat. I was talking about the fact that these shorts are hot and I like the silky fabric, and hey have you ever jerked off in a pair of basketball shorts because it feels really fucking good and speaking of sports if you could do anyone on a baseball team who would it be, I'd choose the catcher because he's used to spending the whole night on his knees and I like guys with lots of stamina but—" The words tumbled out of his mouth unchecked. There was apparently no filter between Rudol's brain and his mouth when he was drunk, an unfortunate quality that often landed him in quite a bit of trouble.    
  
Deciding that he'd had enough, Dilan shut him up by shoving his face into his shirt, muffling his speech. Rudol's initial squawk of protest was soon cut off when he discovered that he rather liked being this close in proximity to Dilan's chest.    
  
"You're drunk," Dilan observed intelligently, but he wasn't about to complain if it meant that Rudol was this keen to have sex. The way he was coming on to him was pretty damn hot, in his opinion. He loosened his grip enough for Rudol to wriggle out of his headlock.    
  
"And you're sexy," Rudol replied matter-of-factly, tugging Dilan down into a sloppy kiss. "Are we done stating the obvious now? Because I'd quite like to get on with it."    
  
He leaned into Dilan, gripping him through the fabric of his shorts and giving him a light squeeze, temptation for what was yet to come.   
  
Okay, Dilan thought dimly. He was officially turned on.    
  
Having effectively disarmed him, Rudol took advantage of the moment to expertly trip Dilan up and knock him to the floor. He straddled him, looming over him with a smug, cocky grin.   
  
"Oh no," said Dilan immediately. "We are  _ not _ fucking on the floor."   
  
"Yes we are," Rudol said. "Feel this." He grabbed Dilan's wrist and forced his hand down his pants, pressing it against the rigid heat of his arousal. " _ This _ cannot wait."   
  
Dilan suppressed a groan of longing as his fingers instinctively closed around Rudol's prominent erection. In a last ditch attempt, he retaliated, "Yeah, but you're not the one who's on the ground. This floor is hard, dude."   
  
"You're hard," Rudol answered cheerfully, pressing into Dilan's hand before removing it so that he could stretch out on top of Dilan.   
  
Well, he couldn't argue with that. Dilan settled for grumbling, "Shut up and toss me one of the million or so condoms you have stashed in that bag of yours."   
  
"Eh, s'too far," Rudol slurred, burrowing his face in the crook of Dilan's neck and soaking in the warm body heat. In addition to being excessively verbose and sex-crazed, irresponsibility was a trait that raised its ugly head when Rudol got drunk. Any and all sense of responsibility flew out the window around his fifth drink.   
  
"It's four feet away," Dilan pointed out, clearly forgetting the rule of not arguing with drunk people, especially those who become stubborn and irrational while under the influence.   
  
"Four feet too far. We don't need it." Rudol dismissed the matter with a careless wave of his hand.   
  
"Yeah, no." Well,  _ someone _ had to be the adult, and he privately found it hilarious that he was to be the responsible one in this situation, given the number of irresponsible things he and Aeleus had done after demolishing a full keg of beer. He jostled Rudol off of him so he could get up. "And we're moving this to the bedroom 'cause I'm not staying on the fucking floor."    
  
Rudol mumbled something indistinguishable as he climbed to his feet, but Dilan was positive he heard the word "vanilla" in there somewhere. He snorted derisively. "You should know better than anyone that I'm anything but vanilla, Rudy. If you wanna be the one on the floor, be my guest."   
  
"Noooo…" Rudol said slowly. It hurt his brain to think. "I wanna be on top."    
  
"Then stop complaining and suck it up." Dilan hooked his finger through one of the belt loops on Rudol's jeans and tugged, jerking his head in the direction of the bedroom. Rudol followed him obediently, somewhat cheered up by the fact that he had a nice view from behind Dilan.    
  
In the bedroom, Dilan dug around in the clutter on his dresser, eventually producing a foil-wrapped condom and one of the miniature-sized samples of lube given out in the safe sex packages that Planned Parenthood representatives handed out to anyone who passed by them on Fridays – hey, they were free, and he was all for it if it meant he didn't need to buy them himself.    
  
He tossed them on the bed for later use and smirked. "So, where were we?"   
  
Rudol, who wasted no time in getting down to business, chose not to dignify that with a verbal answer. Instead, he impatiently tugged Dilan down on top of him, pulling him into a rough, clumsy kiss, a kiss that tasted of cigarettes and Budweiser and mint and  _ heaven _ . He blindly rolled over to pin Dilan beneath him but miscalculated the distance, for his brain was foggy from the alcohol and the heat of the moment and a twin-sized bed didn't afford a lot of room for rolling around, and the two of them crashed to the floor in a tangle of limbs.    
  
"Fuck," Dilan groaned, breaking apart to rub the back of his head and wince.    
  
Rudol, however, was delighted. "Back on the floor again! I always get what I want in the end," he exclaimed.    
  
Dilan rolled his eyes. "Whatever, you win." At least the bedroom floor was slightly more comfortable than the rest of the apartment owing to the clothes that littered the floor (he rarely put his clothes away after washing them, preferring to let them pile up into a horizontal closet, and stopped using the laundry hamper ages ago). He yanked Rudol back down to kiss him again, more insistently this time.    
  
Rudol moaned into his mouth, rubbing against him provocatively. He suddenly needed contact, desperately seeking friction of some kind. He rolled his hips forward, grinding his groin into Dilan's own crotch.    
  
Movements that would have ordinarily been slow and tantalizing, drawn out and unhurried, became feverish and urgent. He sat back and, repositioning himself so that he was kneeling between Dilan's legs instead of straddling him, roughly pulled Dilan's hips up against his own. The alcohol loosened him up so that he was completely uninhibited, and he hardly knew what he was doing, just that it felt  _ really fucking good oh god yes don't stop. _   
  
The dry, still-clothed contact was enough to get him off, but he craved something closer than that, wanting to feel Dilan inside of him, wanting to be driven out of his mind. The uncomfortable tightness in his jeans, which was only heightened by the animalistic grinding motion, was getting to be unbearable.    
  
"God… Need…" Rudol panted, but he was unable to articulate the jumbled mess of thoughts in his head. He settled for pushing Dilan's shirt further up his torso, exposing his happy trail and the waistband of his boxers that peeked out from under his shorts. A longing noise slipped out, and he ran his hand up the length of the other's body, intoxicated by the sensation of skin against skin. The sexual desire coursing through his veins threatened to overwhelm him, and he snapped out of his hazy reverie, quickly tugging the shirt over Dilan's head.   
  
Dilan, who immediately understood what Rudol was trying to say, leaned up to grab Rudol's shirt by the collar at the back of his neck, pulled it over his head, and tossed the restrictive article of clothing aside.    
  
With his chest bared, Rudol pressed up against Dilan's own naked skin, still breathing heavily as he tightly wound one hand in his hair. He hooked the thumb of his other hand over the waistband of Dilan's boxers and slid both boxers and shorts down in one smooth movement before attempting to remove his own pants. He fumbled with the button and zipper of his jeans with one hand but found it an impossible task and gave up, cursing.    
  
Annoyed, Dilan knocked Rudol's hand out of the way and unbuttoned his pants himself. "I gotta do everything for you, don't I?" he said with a smirk, putting both hands on Rudol's waist to shimmy his jeans down his hips.    
  
"Shut up and fuck me already," Rudol replied, hissing as he struggled to remove his pants and failing dismally. Getting drunk had robbed him of what little grace and gentlemanliness he possessed.    
  
"Don't have to ask me twice." Dilan clasped his hands behind his head and laid back, offering up his body with a cocky grin on his face.    
  
Rudol finally managed to extricate his legs from his jeans and shook them off haphazardly, sending them flying across the room, where they landed under Aeleus's bed. Dilan made a mental note to retrieve them before Aeleus came home lest he had to explain himself and gross out his roommate. Rudol was still too drunk to care, however, and was groping around the bed's surface to find the condom and lube that had been tossed there earlier, making a pleased noise when he struck gold.   
  
"You're so lucky that Aeleus isn't home," Dilan commented idly, watching Rudol roll the condom down his shaft. "Don't think the whole ambush thing would've gone so well if he was here."   
  
"Less talk, more action," Rudol said and straddled him again, leaning down to kiss him once more. One lubed-up hand snaked between the two of them to stroke Dilan.   
  
"Mmm," Dilan said incoherently, too far gone to come up with an appropriate response other than kissing Rudol back. He fumbled blindly to take the lube packet from where it still dangled in Rudol's hand.   
  
The blond was the first to break apart, burying his face in the crook of Dilan's neck and swearing when one lubed finger slipped inside him, soon followed by a second. The waiting suddenly became too much to bear, and he reared back, deciding that he'd been prepared enough.   
  
"Fuck it," he gasped, his voice ragged. "I'm ready."   
  
Dilan didn't say anything —  _ couldn't _ say anything but groan in pleasure as Rudol's hand curled around the base of his cock, guiding him.   
  
Rudol's only thought was to sate the primal urge stirring inside him. "Fuck," he hissed as Dilan entered him. "Fuuuck." A jumbled stream of profanity mingled with noises of encouragement spilled out of him as he gave in to pure carnal pleasure, an unabashed moan surfacing from the back of his throat.    
  
Dilan chuckled, slightly short of breath, as he tried to sit up on his elbows to give himself some more leverage. "Never knew you had such a dirty mouth when you're drunk," he muttered in amusement, but his voice was too low to be heard. He was too wrapped up in the moment to make his witticisms audible.   


Dilan thrust deeper inside Rudol, his breathing coming in staccato gasps. The blond was so _pretty_ like this, with his face flushed and his back arched with desire. Dilan _needed_ to see what that face looked like when he came. He wrapped his fingers around Rudol's shaft and jerked him off in time with each thrust of his hips. Rudol swore, tossing his head back in ecstasy as he spilled over Dilan's hand, painting his chest white. The sight of him biting his lip, the sound of a half-strangled cry, the sensation of him clenching around Dilan as he rode out the waves of his climax -- all of it was too much for Dilan. He came with a grunt, fingers digging into Rudol's hips, hard enough to leave bruises. It was all over as quickly and abruptly as it started.    
  
Rudol exhaled and silently rolled off of Dilan, grabbing the other boy's shirt off the floor and using it to clean himself up. "God, you're good," he mumbled, his chest still heaving.   
  
"You're not a bad lay either, even when you're batshit drunk," Dilan answered cheerfully, pulling Rudol into an affectionate headlock. The blond wrinkled his nose in response.   
  
"Dilan?" he said after a moment's silence.   
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"I think I'm gonna hurl." His face was pale and slightly tinged with green.    
  
Dilan reacted immediately, freaking out as he tugged Rudol to his feet. "Not in my room, you're not!"   
  
Thankfully, the bathroom was adjacent to the rather small bedroom, and he dragged his ashen-faced boyfriend into it. Rudol stumbled over to the toilet and proceeded to be suddenly and violently sick. Dilan left the room while he emptied the contents of his stomach and returned fully clothed with a glass of water and Rudol's jeans, which he had dug out from under Aeleus's bed.   
  
"Classy," he commented, leaning in the doorway.   
  
"Ohhh god, motherfucker," Rudol groaned miserably. "I am never drinking that much again." He accepted the glass of water gratefully and rinsed his mouth out with it.   
  
"That's what everybody says," Dilan said, tossing his jeans to him. "Put some pants on, asshole."   
  
"You'd know, wouldn't you?"   
  
"Pfft, yeah. I've been in Sigma Chi for four years, 'course I know about puking after drinking too much. You swear you're never gonna drink again, and you're back out the next day slamming down a 12-pack. It's awesome. Where the hell were you, anyway?"   
  
"Blackjack. Played for beer. Kicked everyone's sorry arses. Dunno how many beers I ended up having. Lost count. And you know me, I can never have just one of anything. Can I kip on your couch tonight?"   
  
"Yeah, sure." Dilan eyed him critically. "You probably shouldn't be going out again tonight anyway. You look like shit."   
  
Rudol couldn't argue with the latter and instead settled for asking, "Aeleus won't mind?"   
  
"Eh, he can't complain. Ienzo slept over here once. In the same bed, actually. Had no clue he was sleeping over and barged in on the two of them naked." He shuddered at the memory. "So he owes me one."   
  
"Excellent. I'm crashing now."   
  
"Good plan." Dilan couldn't help but snicker as he watched Rudol crawl over to the couch and curl up in the fetal position. If there was one thing to be said about Rudol, it was that there was never a dull moment when he was around. He shook his head and grinned ruefully, returning to the bedroom to text Aeleus and warn him about their visitor. 


	4. Chapter 4

It was 1 A.M. on a Thursday night, one week after his late-night encounter with Rudol, and Dilan had just finished writing his eight-page sociology paper that was due on Monday. He had no classes on Friday because he, along with Aeleus, had managed to create a near-perfect schedule thanks to the good fortune of scoring an early time slot when registering for classes. As such, his weekend began… _now._ Aeleus was out on a date with Ienzo and had mentioned that he'd be spending the night at Ienzo's dorm room, which meant that he had the apartment all to himself. This, of course, meant one thing only. He dug around in his pocket for his cell phone and flipped it open to text Rudol.  
  
 _Hey, what are you up to?  
  
Not much. You're the only thing on my "to do" list. You game?_  
  
Dilan grinned. Great minds really did think alike.  
  
\------------------------  
  
Aeleus and Ienzo were currently strolling together, hand in hand, through the relatively quiet streets of the city. They had returned to Ienzo's dorm room after their date to discover a scribbled message on the whiteboard attached to the outside of the door that warned, "Do not disturb: sexing in progress." The noises coming from behind the door clearly confirmed that they were not welcome.  
  
Ienzo bristled; this was the third time that he had been sexiled from his own room in the course of a single semester. Taking pity on him, Aeleus invited him over to the apartment. He reasoned that Dilan wouldn't mind too much; after all, his only plans for the night were to start and finish his essay, and Ienzo wouldn't be too obtrusive of a presence in the apartment.  
  
Or maybe he was just deluding himself. In any case, he couldn't leave Ienzo behind to sit outside his door and suffer through the sounds of two people having sex two feet away from him filtering through the paper-thin walls. It was inhumane. Thus, the two of them tramped through the wet, rain-sodden streets back to Aeleus's place.  
  
"It appears that I have some sort of chemical imbalance in my body," Ienzo said, gingerly skirting around a puddle.  
  
"… Are you going to be sick?" Aeleus asked apprehensively, shooting him a worried look.  
  
"No, I don't think so. I believe that I am feeling a more emotional reaction, rather than a physical response."  
  
"I have no idea what you are talking about."  
  
Exasperated that Aeleus did not understand his cryptic speech, Ienzo threw his hands in the air. He halted in his tracks and faced his boyfriend squarely. Enunciating his words carefully, he said, "In laymen's terms, Aeleus, I am feeling for you what is commonly referred to as 'love.'"  
  
"Oh," was all Aeleus could say to that, any ounce of sensibility flying out of his head, leaving him dumb. He and Ienzo had been steadily dating for going on five months, but professions of love had yet to be made, despite the fact that the words had been dancing on his lips for several weeks now. Ienzo, to be frank, wasn't one to love easily or to throw the word around casually.  
  
"There is, however, a problem," he continued, heedless of Aeleus's stunned silence.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Well, I am rather short, unfortunately."  
  
"But you already knew that." He was starting to recover from his speechlessness, but his brain hadn't quite returned yet.  
  
"Yes, I am aware of that," Ienzo replied somewhat testily; the matter of his height was always a touchy subject. He wasn't _that_ short, or so he preferred to think – he just seemed unnaturally small when he was next to big buffoons like Aeleus and Dilan. "But what I mean is that you are so much taller than I am."  
  
"So… why is this a problem again?"  
  
Ienzo sighed. He stood on his tip-toes and stretched up to kiss Aeleus's chin. "Because, you idiot, I can't kiss you if you don't bend down. You know, for someone who actually possesses something of a brain, you can really be quite dense at times," he chided gently.  
  
"I think we can remedy that," Aeleus said and leaned down to meet Ienzo's lips halfway, his hands settling comfortably on his slim waist.  
  
\------------------------  
  
"You're quick," Dilan remarked with some surprise when he opened the door ten minutes after Rudol's last text to find the blond standing there with a wide smirk on his face.  
  
"I was in the area," Rudol replied, flopping down on the couch and looking up at Dilan with his hands folded behind his head. "My friend lives in West Hall; I was on my way out when you texted me."  
  
"Gotcha," Dilan said. "I was just about to grab a soda. You want anything?"  
  
"Nah, I'm good," Rudol answered breezily.  
  
"Cool, be right back."  
  
He returned, soda in hand, to find Rudol casually flipping through the few small pictures he kept in his wallet.  
  
"You have a photo of the two of us in here?" he asked, holding it up questioningly. It was a small, photobooth-sized picture taken about a month into their relationship on a day when he and Rudol had run into Aeleus and Ienzo at the movie theater. They proceeded to discover a photobooth wedged behind the claw machine and wasted five dollars on photos, several of which contained obscene gestures, before they were politely asked to leave for disrupting the peace, which Dilan and Aeleus still considered one of their finest exploits.  
  
"Oh, that," Dilan said, glancing at the picture. "Yeah, I must have put it in there without thinking after we got it taken."  
  
"Well, then I am honored." Rudol grinned and leaned up to kiss Dilan, skillfully plucking the soda can out of his hand and placing it on the table by the couch.  
  
\------------------------  
  
"God," Aeleus groaned as he pressed Ienzo up against the wall, having somehow miraculously managed to make it up the stairs to the door of his apartment without disentangling himself from Ienzo.  
  
Ienzo made a small noise of displeasure at the brief interruption and tightly wound his fingers into Aeleus's hair, tugging him back down with the air of someone determined to be in charge.   
  
Aeleus could feel Ienzo's lips curling into a smile as he kissed him with a surprising amount of force for someone so small. He pulled Ienzo closer, one hand pressing into the small of his back while the other groped around in his pocket for the key to the apartment.  
  
"Wait," Ienzo suddenly gasped, breaking apart from Aeleus in an unforeseen moment of clarity. "Dilan?"  
  
"No…" Aeleus said slowly, looking down at him in bemusement. " _Aeleus_."  
  
"I know that, idiot," Ienzo replied impatiently. "I meant, isn't he home?"  
  
"Don't care," Aeleus grunted. "It's not like he hasn't seen us kissing before. And besides, he'll leave if it bothers him." He kissed Ienzo, who felt all protests leave his body in a sudden rush of lightheadedness, once more and fumbled for the doorknob behind him.  
  
\------------------------  
  
Rudol had managed to worm his way out from beneath Dilan and was on top of him, his mouth ghosting over the crevices of his collarbone and his leg slung carelessly over his hip. He had barely slipped his hand beneath the waistband of Dilan's pants to cup him when the door swung open and Aeleus and Ienzo, still glued to each other, stumbled through it.  
  
Several things occurred simultaneously. Dilan swore and accidentally knocked over the soda can that was poised precariously on the edge of the table. A bewildered Aeleus pulled away as he tried to make sense of the scene he had just interrupted, still punch-drunk on Ienzo's earlier confession of love and the ensuing make-out session. Ienzo looked downright mortified. Rudol discreetly removed his hand from Dilan's pants and whispered in the other's ear, "We've been cockblocked, it looks like."  
  
"You're telling me," Dilan muttered back.  
  
"Oh. Sorry, man, we'll go find somewhere else—" Aeleus began awkwardly.  
  
"No, no, it's fine," Dilan said resignedly. "The mood's already been killed."  
  
Realizing that he was still on top of Dilan in an extremely compromising position, Rudol climbed off of him, straightened out his clothes, and perched uncomfortably on the edge of the sofa.  
  
Ienzo coughed and looked at the ceiling as if there was something incredibly fascinating fixed to it.  
  
"Well," Rudol said in a loud voice, clapping his hands together to break the ice. "I suppose I shall leave before the moment gets any more awkward."  
  
"But we'll meet up tomorrow to finish what we started, yeah?" Dilan smirked at him and laced his hands behind his head.  
  
"'Fraid I can't do tomorrow night. I've got a date."  
  
Another, more pronounced silence descended upon the room, which Rudol was apparently oblivious to, for he began gathering his stuff without a care in the world. Aeleus and Ienzo, who had been speaking to each other in low, hushed voices, stopped abruptly, both looking first at Rudol, then at Dilan apprehensively.  
  
"…A date?" Dilan said stiffly. "With who?"  
  
"Oh, just some chick," he replied in an offhand manner, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "It's been fun and all while it lasted, but it might be a bit before we can hook up again." He glanced up at Dilan, who looked like he didn't know what hit him. "You didn't think we were exclusive, did you?" he asked, a faint smile flickering across his face.  
  
"Actually, uh, I did."  
  
"Oh, well." Rudol shrugged plaintively and began walking backwards toward the door. "We weren't. I get lucky far too often to be tied down to one lad or lass." He bumped into Aeleus. "Sorry, mate," he said and patted him apologetically, completely unfazed by his stony glare. "Oh, by the way… Thanks for the dough." He flashed the twenty dollar bill that he swiped from Dilan's wallet and grinned before vanishing out the door.  
  
Dilan looked as though he had been struck over the head with a blunt object. He remained stock-still, staring at the door as if that would make Rudol come back and tell him that it was all just a sick joke. It dimly occurred to him that it was amazing how, with a single sentence, your entire perception of who someone is can be shattered in a fraction of an instant.  
  
Aeleus was the first to break the silence. "That little _fucker_."  
  
His voice brought Dilan out of his reverie. "Yeah," he mumbled. The apartment suddenly seemed even smaller than usual, and he felt the clawing need to escape from it. "I'm going down to the Late Night Café." There were some things that only greasy, fried food could cure. He swept past the couple without another word. The door shut behind him with an audible click.  
  
"I knew there was a reason I didn't like that kid," Aeleus muttered darkly, pacing back and forth. "Always had my doubts about him… But I thought it was just like the way he doesn't like you—" he gestured at Ienzo, who sniffed "—you know, like you think that no one's good enough for your bro. Like he could do better than whoever he's already got."  
  
Ienzo started to sit on the couch, then thought better of it; given the scene they'd just interrupted, he didn't know what kind of things Dilan and Rudol did on that couch, nor did he want to find out. Instead, he perched on the edge of a chair, keeping tactfully silent for once.  
  
Aeleus stopped pacing and looked directly at Ienzo. "I'm gonna go find him. Will you be all right here by yourself?"  
  
"Naturally," Ienzo said crisply, leaving no doubt in Aeleus's mind about his ability to take care of himself.  
  
"'Course, what was I thinking?" Aeleus paused at the door and grinned at him. "Be back in a few then."  
  
He took the stairs two at a time on his way down to their residence's dining hall. After 9:00 P.M., the dining hall transformed into what was colloquially known as the Late Night Café, where students could satisfy virtually all of their late night cravings, ranging from burgers and fries to ice-cream to chips and dip. It was a popular hangout spot for many, fulfilling the needs of the hardcore studiers to the wild partiers, and Aeleus knew that he'd find Dilan in their usual booth. True to form, he was digging into a tray of deep-fried, grease-bathed mozzarella sticks, his expression inscrutable.  
  
"Hey," Aeleus said, sliding into the seat opposite him.  
  
Dilan didn't answer immediately, focusing his attention on a piece of fried mozzarella. "I should've known," he blurted out without a proper greeting, his tone resentful. "I mean, all the signs were there. Like the fact that he possessed more condoms than a freakin' Trojan factory. Or last week, when he was drunk and spent the night with us, he asked me who I'd choose if I could do anyone on the baseball team, then went on to tell me that he'd pick the catcher because the catcher's used to spending an entire night on his knees." Aeleus opened his mouth to speak. "—Or when he said that he can't have just one of anything," Dilan plowed on. "Fuck," he broke off, throwing the uneaten mozzarella stick back in its tray. Suddenly, he'd lost his appetite entirely. He shoved the food across the table and buried his face in his hands.  
  
"You had no way of knowing, man," Aeleus said bracingly.  
  
Dilan let out a bitter laugh that held no humor in it. "Yeah, 'cause I was just another one of his fucking games, right?"  
  
Aeleus helped himself to some of Dilan's abandoned fried mozzarella and switched tactics. "Look, he was a jackass. He was just good at hiding it, that's all. Not your fault," he counseled. "And you're gonna get over it. We'll go out, I'll buy you a couple drinks, and you'll find someone who's not a lying sack of shit." He pointed at Dilan with a mozzarella stick. "And trust me, when I see him again, I'm beating the shit out of him," he added, his voice suddenly ominous.  
  
"Yeah," Dilan muttered through his hands. "You and me both." With a sigh, he dropped his hands and glanced at the clock that hung on the wall by the burger station. 2:00 A.M. on what was turning out to be the longest night of his life. "Late Night's about to close. I'm going to bed."  
  
Aeleus shoved the last piece of fried mozzarella in his mouth and got up as well, tossing the empty container in the trash. He slung one arm around his best friend's neck as they were ushered out of the dining hall along with the rest of the stragglers. "Think about it this way," he said. "It's the weekend. You have three days to chill and plan revenge."  
  
"Hah," Dilan said bleakly as they started to climb the stairs. He quickly changed the subject, not wanting to think about Rudol's betrayal anymore. "So, what made you come home? I thought you were spending the night at Ienzo's."  
  
"Yeah, well, his roommate was getting laid, and I didn't want to leave him sitting outside his room listening to them going at it. That's, like, cruel and unusual punishment. So we decided to come back here instead. "  
  
Dilan simply nodded to indicate that he heard and shouldered open the door to their apartment. Ienzo looked up from the sports magazine he'd been leafing through to while away the time. Obviously, it wasn't his first choice, but then again, his opinion of what constituted good reading material drastically differed from Aeleus's and Dilan's.  
  
The atmosphere in the apartment that night was subdued. Ienzo kept his mouth shut for once, refraining from making his trademark snarky comments, while Aeleus remained silent out of respect for Dilan, who made it clear that he wasn't up to talking at the moment.  
  
Ienzo borrowed one of Aeleus's t-shirts to sleep in and spent the night curled up on the couch in what was a sporting display of tact on Aeleus's part; it would have been downright heartless to even entertain the idea of having his boyfriend share a bed with him when his roommate had just been dumped so brutally.  
  
Dilan stared up at the ceiling above his bed, his hands laced behind his head. If Aeleus and Ienzo hadn't interrupted, if they'd been able to stay in Ienzo's dorm room for the night, would he be lying here alone right now? Or had Rudol planned on dumping him anyway after they fucked? He couldn't answer the burning question. With a heavy sigh, he pulled the covers over his head, rolled over, and tried to fall asleep.  
  
\------------------------  
  
Dilan did not sleep well that night. It took him what felt like hours to nod off, and when he did, he slept fitfully at best. However, he chose to make up for this by spending the entirety of the following day in bed.  
  
By 6:00, Aeleus decided that he'd had enough of his roommate's wallowing.  
  
"Dude, get up. We're going out tonight."  
  
"If by 'we' you mean 'you,'" then I'm not stopping you. Have fun."  
  
"By 'we' I mean _'you and me,'_ dumbass."  
  
"Nah, I'm cool," Dilan said, speaking more to his pillow than to Aeleus.  
  
Aeleus rolled his eyes in a remarkably accurate impression of Ienzo. "Stop acting like a girl, Dil."  
  
"I'm not acting like a girl!" he protested, clutching to his blanket as Aeleus tried to rip it away from him.  
  
"Yeah, you are." He succeeded in wresting away the sheets, and Dilan groaned and flopped back down on his back. "So quit being a pussy. You're going out tonight, 'nuff said."  
  
"Fuck you," Dilan replied, but his heart wasn't in it.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Go shower." When Dilan didn't reply, he added in a more sympathetic voice, "You'll feel better."  
  
"Ugh, fine," he groused and slunk off to take a shower and get ready.  
  
\------------------------  
  
Dilan had to admit that Aeleus was right: getting up, showering, and escaping the cramped confines of the apartment made a world's difference in his attitude. By the time they arrived at the bar, Dilan was starting to feel a little bit better. This, of course, meant that something was bound to go wrong. He should have realized it the moment that Aeleus, who was a few steps ahead of him, stopped abruptly and swore.  
  
"Pick another bar," he said shortly, turning around to face Dilan. "We're going somewhere else."  
  
"What? _Why_? This is the only place that has— oh." His mild protests died down when he glimpsed the reason why Aeleus was so hell-bent on leaving, but the damage was done. He'd already caught sight of Rudol, who was sitting at the bar and chatting up some blonde chick whom Dilan had never seen before. With a sickening lurch in his stomach, he recalled what Rudol had said about having a date that night, but the nausea soon gave way to burning hot anger. "No," he decided, standing resolute. "We're staying." He left Aeleus behind and made his way over to the bar, where Rudol and the unknown girl were laughing over some private joke. If he couldn't have Rudol, no one could. Maybe it was petty of him, but at the moment, he honestly did not care.  
  
"So," Dilan said loudly as he sidled up to them, taking a sick sense of satisfaction from the way Rudol nearly choked on his drink at the sight of him. "I guess a real man was too much for you to handle. Good thing you had a breeder to fall back on, but she's not much of a looker." His eyes flicked over the slight blonde girl condescendingly before continuing scathingly, "Or was she just the only thing you could afford? I doubt she'd have much to offer with a chest like that. But I'm sure she makes up for it in other ways. S'too bad that your tiny dick is probably dwarfed by the size of her cunt." Not very subtle, but at 6'6", Dilan wasn't very subtle to begin with.  
  
The words hung in the air like the smoke that filled the club. Insulting someone's manhood and implying that a female was a slut was hitting way below the belt, and Dilan knew it. Neither Rudol nor the girl appeared to know how to respond to his allegations, but then again, what kind of comeback _was_ there? Rudol stared at him, mouth agape, and Dilan smirked at him. Payback's a bitch.  
  
His blonde companion managed to get over her shock long enough to snarl, "I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but you don't know _shit_ about me, so don't even pretend that you do, you sorry son of a bitch." She stormed off to join a flamboyantly-dressed male with pink hair, leaving Rudol to face Dilan alone.  
  
"You are such a _dick_ ," Rudol hissed, the tips of his ears as red as flames.  
  
"And you're an asshole. What do you know, we make a perfect pair. Too bad you're busy going after the first piece of ass you find to see that."  
  
"She's just a friend!"  
  
"Yeah, I'm sure."  
  
"She is! My date fell through, so I went out with her instead. And she happens to be dating a lovely little freshman girl. So piss off, would you?" He scowled and tried to leave the bar, but Dilan firmly planted himself in front of him, effectively cornering him.  
  
"No, I won't 'piss off,'" he said evenly. "I want an explanation. And I want my fucking money back."  
  
"What is there to explain? This 'thing'—" he accompanied his words with those annoying air-quotes "—that we had was never serious anyways. Don't make me out to be the bad guy. It's not like I ever led you on."  
  
Dilan had an ugly expression on his face that suggested that he thought otherwise. "And the money?"  
  
"Soz, it's gone already," Rudol said flippantly, holding up his empty hands.  
  
"What? Gone _where_?"  
  
Rudol's cocky grin slipped down a notch. "That's none of your business."  
  
Dilan laughed, more out of sheer disbelief than anything else. "None of my— of _course_ it's my business, you stole that money from me!"  
  
Now the grin was gone completely. Rudol coughed to try and buy some time, peering around Dilan to evaluate a potential escape plan. He sucked in his breath when he saw Aeleus towering threateningly behind him and realized that smooth talking wasn't going to fly this time. He exhaled.  
  
"To pay off my gambling debts," he admitted, his voice low and chagrined.  
  
"You gambled yourself into debt? Dude, what the—" Dilan didn't even know what to address first; there were so many things wrong with this situation. "Okay, first off, if you needed money that badly, why the fuck didn't you just tell me instead of— wait." He stopped short. A memory from a few weeks ago niggled at him, and he recalled that moment when he was on the shuttle and noticed that his money had a habit of vanishing. "How long have you known that you were in debt?"  
  
"Um. Two weeks?"  
  
"And how long have you been stealing money from me?" He was doing his very best to keep calm, all things considered.  
  
Rudol swallowed. "I didn't think you'd miss an extra ten bucks here and there," he mumbled, avoiding the question.  
  
Dilan let out a disbelieving noise. "Who the fuck _are_ you?"  
  
"Still the same guy you met in your Eastern Religions class. I never made any attempt to hide from you, Dilan. You knew who I was from the very start," Rudol retorted defensively.  
  
Dilan snorted. "Oh, what was that, a two-faced, lying slut?"  
  
Rudol felt a white-hot flash of anger ignite within his chest. "Shut up," he hissed, his fists clenched tightly. "Shut up," he repeated, the volume of his voice rising higher. "Take that back."  
  
"No," Dilan replied infuriatingly.  
  
"Well, guess what? _This_ is who I am — this who I always _will_ be!" He threw his arms up in the air wildly, any and all vestiges of composure gone. By this point, the bar had gone silent, all eyes watching the scene unfold. "And nothing you can say or do is gonna change that, so you can either take me as I am—" he shoved Dilan in the chest roughly "—or leave me."  
  
Dilan looked as if he was going to haul off and punch Rudol in the face, but he broke away at the last moment. "Leave you," he muttered, making his choice. Aeleus made a motion to indicate that he would be perfectly willing to wreck Rudol's face, but Dilan stopped him. "It's nothing… just… never mind." Aeleus shot Rudol a look of pure hatred but left reluctantly, leaving him standing alone and breathing heavily.  
  
He self-consciously flattened his hair down with the palm of his hand, trying to regain his usual calm, aloof demeanor. He'd fully expected to be punched at the very least, so getting away without a scratch was a minor victory. Taking one last deep breath and composing himself, he made his way over to where Lumaria and L'Erena were sitting. Neither one of the two of them said anything as he slipped into a seat at their table, avoiding their gazes.  
  
Finally, L'Erena broke the silence. "What," she said, "was that all about?"  
  
"Nothing," he mumbled. "Just some guy I dumped. He didn't take it well." He reached for Lulu's drink and downed it wordlessly, heedless of its fruity taste. He normally didn't care for such drinks, but he needed alcohol right now, and he'd take whatever he could get. His friend didn't protest and slid L'Erena's drink over to him, as if he knew Rudol's mental state at the moment and realized that he needed something to take the edge off of it.  
  
Rudol murmured his thanks and knocked back the electric martini as well. "Sorry for what he said about you, Rennie," he said, apologizing for Dilan's choice words. He felt somewhat guilty, for he was the one who brought Dilan's wrath down upon him and, subsequently, L'Erena. "Fag?" he asked, offering a pack of cigs as a proverbial olive branch.  
  
"Yes. Yes, you are," L'Erena informed him, but she accepted a cigarette nonetheless.  
  
Rudol lit his own cigarette, cupping his hand around the flame, and took a drag. As he exhaled, he stared up at the ceiling and wondered why, if he considered Dilan another throwaway boyfriend, he felt a gnawing pain of guilt in the pit of his stomach.


	5. Chapter 5

Dilan was, to say the least, not looking forward to attending his Eastern Religions class on Monday morning. He didn't relish having to be in the same room as the guy who dumped him so harshly in front of his best friend and his boyfriend. _Stupid fucking cheating lying stealing son of a bitch,_ he thought viciously, envisioning the numerous ways he could pound him to a pulp if he wasn't in a lecture hall at the moment.  
  
Even as he was thinking these thoughts, his feet carried him to his usual seat, until he came to his senses halfway down the aisle. Clearly, he couldn't sit in the spot he'd been sitting in all semester anymore. Mercifully, Rudol, who was shifting in his chair and not paying any attention to the steady flow of students in the aisles, didn't notice him.  
  
The blond tugged absentmindedly on the small silver ankh that dangled from his left ear, using the side of his pen to tap out the beat to a song. Dilan remembered the good-natured arguments over music they'd had and realized with a sharp pang that he wouldn't be able to hear a Lady Gaga song on the radio without being painfully reminded of his ex.  
  
He shook himself out of his daze and occupied himself with finding an empty seat to call home, preferably one as far away from Rudol he could manage. He fell into an aisle seat a reasonable distance away and glanced back quickly, but Rudol was using the last few minutes left before the lecture started to text someone. Dilan couldn't help but feel slightly disgruntled. It seemed like Rudol had already moved on, or worse: maybe he was so inconsequential to him that he didn't even notice that he wasn't there.  
  
A vaguely familiar voice startled him out of his pensive musing. "Dude!"  
  
Dilan turned to find himself seated next to a boy with slicked-back black hair, amber eyes, and a surfer accent that reminded him of someone whom he couldn't quite place…  
  
"Do I know you?" the boy asked, squinting at him as if that would jog his memory.  
  
"Uh," Dilan said intelligently, racking his brain. "I think so?"  
  
The other boy snapped his fingers triumphantly. "Dilan!" he said, proud of himself for remembering.  
  
A metaphorical light-bulb flashed on over Dilan's head. "Dude!" he exclaimed, a grin breaking out across his face. "Braig! Holy shit, the last time I saw you was…"  
  
"Sophomore year of high school, I know." Braig grinned, still slightly dumbstruck. "I had no idea you went here!"  
  
"Me neither. Man, did we go through four years of college without even crossing paths once?"  
  
"Actually, I just transferred here last semester," Braig admitted somewhat sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've got a boyfriend who travels the country a lot, so I've been jumping around to be with him."  
  
"Oho," Dilan said with a knowing smirk, folding his arms behind his head and leaning back in his seat. "Didn't know you were such a _romantic_."  
  
"Ah, fuck you," Braig said amiably, waving off his subtle jibe. "So, you still in touch with Aeleus?"  
  
Dilan snorted. "Seeing as how we're roommates, I guess you could say that yeah, I am."  
  
Braig let out a bark of laughter. "Should've known! You guys always were tight. No wonder you went to the same university."  
  
"Yup," Dilan replied, tipping his head back. "Us bros stick together."  
  
"Alright, settle down, settle down," the professor called out, clapping his hands together for silence, and, without further ado, he began his lecture.  
  
"Picking up from where we left off last time, I'd like to draw your attention to the following Chinese character, as illustrated on the projector. Now, this is the earliest character for 'ancestor.' What does it remind you of?" He nodded at a raised hand at the back of the room. Dilan reflexively looked over his shoulder, only to realize that it was Rudol who was volunteering information. He swiftly redirected his gaze, staring intently at the screen at the front of the room.  
  
Rudol studied the symbol carefully before suggesting, "A sandwich?" Several students chuckled, and a few called out affirmations.  
  
"Maybe, if you're hungry enough," the professor conceded with a smile, "but it's actually supposed to be a phallus."  
  
"Yeah, that's what it reminds me of," Rudol amended, and Dilan could picture the cheeky grin on his face perfectly without needing to look at him.  
  
A ripple of laughter surged across the room. Braig snorted in amusement. Dilan remained stony-faced. He refused to give Rudol the satisfaction of laughing at his lewd witticisms. Instead, he spent the remainder of the lecture brooding in between spontaneous bouts of note-taking. He was in the middle of replaying past encounters with Rudol and trying to figure out what other clues he had missed when the professor announced that class was dismissed, and he was forced back to reality once more.  
  
"Dude," Braig began, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "I gotta split, I've got class on the other side of campus, but hey. Tomorrow's Tuesday. Barbeque wing night at Queen's. Bring Aeleus, we'll catch up and all."  
  
"Hell yeah," Dilan said, deciding to put Rudol out of his mind, for now, at the very least.  
  
"Sweet, see you at seven," Braig called, already halfway down the aisle, and lifted his hand in farewell.  
  
Dilan shook his head, still marveling over the strangeness of the whole situation, and headed back to the apartment.  
  
\------------------------  
  
"Bro, you are not going to believe who—" Upon stepping through the front door, Dilan caught sight of Ienzo sitting neatly on the couch, perfectly at home in the apartment, and interrupted himself mid-sentence. "Seriously, don't you have somewhere else to be? You don't live here. Go home."  
  
"Unfortunately, that is not your call to make, Dilan," Ienzo said witheringly, looking over the top of his textbook at the behemoth who towered over him in a futile attempt to intimidate him into leaving.  
  
"I live here too, so yeah, it is. Go away."  
  
"Ah, but so does Aeleus," Ienzo replied in a lazy, self-assured voice. "And he knows all too well that if he kicks me out, he will have to suffer the consequences."  
  
Dilan looked at Aeleus, who shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "Okay, I'm not even gonna go there." He would have to have a talk with Aeleus about his sheer lack of balls when confronted with the slightest threat from his controlling boyfriend. And by "talk," he meant "relentlessly take the piss out of him until he did something about his deficit in manliness." In the meantime, he would have to settle for pretending that Ienzo didn't exist.  
  
"Anyways, Ae, you're not gonna believe who I saw in class today," he continued, dumping his bag on top of Ienzo, who protested indignantly.  
  
"Rudol?" Aeleus guessed, taking a bite out of an overflowing sandwich.  
  
"…No. Well, uh, yeah, but… shut up. D'you remember Braig, the dude who transferred into our high school class during our sophomore year?"  
  
"The one who moved back to California after the year was up? Yeah, of course. Wait, what? You ran into him _here_?"  
  
"Yup."  
  
"Dude! I haven't seen him in…"  
  
"Six years, yeah. Freakin' bizarre, isn't it?"  
  
"Twilight Zone, more like it. Okay, okay, remember when…"  
  
"Braig," Ienzo said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Where have I heard that name before…?" Neither Aeleus nor Dilan was listening to him, too engrossed in their own reminiscing.   
  
Suddenly, Ienzo gasped dramatically. "Oh my god, Braig! I _do_ know that name!"  
  
Aeleus and Dilan glanced at him. "What, you know him?" Dilan asked, arching an eyebrow questioningly.  
  
"Noooo," Ienzo said carefully. "But if what the tabloids say is true, then he's this mysterious guy who is dating Myde-from-Flaming-Oceans!" He dug around in his messenger bag and pulled out one of the sleazy celebrity magazines he had bought from the convenience store that morning in addition to his breakfast croissant. It was his guilty pleasure.  
  
"What other Myde is there?" Aeleus muttered sullenly, putting down his sandwich and glaring at it as if it was the source of all his problems.  
  
"Come to think of it, he did mention that his boyfriend travels the country a lot…" Dilan mulled, gazing up at the ceiling thoughtfully. When he looked back down and caught a glimpse of the magazine Ienzo was brandishing, he snickered. "Dude, you are _such_ a girl. Ae, man, hate to break it to you, but I think you're seriously gonna have to reevaluate your sexuality."  
  
"Oh, shut up," Ienzo said, as Aeleus flipped Dilan off, but there was none of the usual annoyance in his voice; he was far too excited about the thought of being the boyfriend of a guy whose best friend was friends with the significant other of his favorite rockstar.  
  
"And I suppose you wanna meet him now?" Dilan asked, clearly amused by this turn of events.  
  
"Well, I won't deny that it would be interesting…"  
  
"I can't believe I'm actually inviting you, of all people —'cause I'm sorry, but I really can't stand being around you—"  
  
"Oh no, the feeling's mutual, I assure you. I quite understand. Do go on."  
  
"— to come along, but here goes. We're all going out to dinner tomorrow."  
  
"We are?"  
  
"Yeah, man. Tuesday night. All-you-can-eat barbeque wings at Queen's for $9.99."  
  
"Fuck yeah."  
  
"So I _guess_ you can come along," Dilan finished with a long-suffering sigh.  
  
Ienzo took a deep breath and swallowed his pride for once. "Dilan," he said formally, extending his hand in gratitude. "As much as I dislike admitting it, I… owe you one. Thank you."  
  
"It's fine. Really. Don't touch me."  
  
\------------------------  
It was tradition for L'Erena, Lumaria, and Rudol to have a "Boy's Night Out" at least once every two weeks. The term "boy" was very loosely defined, as L'Erena was, in fact, female. Granted, she was decidedly more masculine than Lumaria, who was a particularly effeminate male and did not fit society's standard definition of a "boy." Even Rudol, who walked the middle path, had his moments. Technicalities notwithstanding, L'Erena and Rudol reassured the third member of their trio that he did the right thing by not asking Even out on a study date tonight, which was his original intention, as their hostess led them to their usual table.  
  
"We haven't had a Boy's Night Out in ages! Come on, we deserve a break from our significant others, and homework, and life in general. And we need to catch up!"  
  
"And anyways, it's a Tuesday night," Rudol reasoned. "Even can stay at home and actually study for once, since I don't think he'd get much studying done with _you_ around. Think of it this way: you're actually doing him a favor by letting him get some work done. He's got a scholarship to maintain and all, right?"  
  
"Besides," L'Erena added slyly, "you get to spend the night with _me_ instead, and I am so much better company than he is, you know." She linked arms with Lumaria, who already looked much cheerier than before.  
  
"Ladies, ladies," Rudol said airily, breaking them up by squeezing in between them and hooking arms with his two best friends, one on either side of him. "We don't flirt in public, remember? It's unseemly."  
  
"No, that's your job, isn't it?" L'Erena shot back, cackling with laughter.  
  
Rudol childishly stuck his tongue out at her, and she noticed an unfamiliar flash of silver.  
  
"When did you get your tongue pierced?" she asked.  
  
"Eh? Oh, this?" He stuck out his tongue to show off the metal stud. "Yeah, that's new. I got it done on Saturday. And it didn't cost me anything either! The guy owed me, said he'd give me a free piercing. It was either this or a nipple ring, but I opted for the tongue. Ought to make things interesting. I look forward to, ah…" he flicked his eyes up at their waitress, as if making sure that he had an audience for his innuendo-laced words before returning his gaze to his friends. "…testing it out, if you know what I mean." He flashed them a wicked grin, arching an eyebrow suggestively.  
  
The waitress looked like she sincerely regretted being saddled with this table, but plowed on resolutely, pretending that she didn't hear a word. "Hi, I'm Cindy, and I'll be your server this evening," she said briskly. "Can I start you off with something to drink?"  
  
"I'll have a pink lemonade, please," L'Erena said.  
  
"Just what I was about to say. Pink lemonade for me too. You know what they say, great minds…"  
  
"…think alike," Rudol finished. "Yeah, pink lemonade does sound quite delicious."  
  
"All right, I'll have those out for you in a jiffy." She scurried away, giving off the distinct impression that she wanted to escape as quickly as possible.  
  
"Thank you, Cindy!" Rudol called after her, ever the gentleman.  
  
L'Erena collapsed into peals of laughter, and Lumaria was overcome by a fit of the giggles that he had been suppressing for several minutes.  
  
"I love making people feel uncomfortable," Rudol announced, a broad grin on his face. "It's such good sport."  
  
"Oh god, did you see her face?" L'Erena gasped, clutching a stitch in her side. "You could just _tell_ that her mind went straight to the gutter."  
  
"Another winner for the 'who can be the most obnoxious in public' game!" Lumaria applauded appreciatively.  
  
"It's a gift," Rudol acknowledged with a demure little bow. "She was rather pretty, though. Wonder if I could get her number…"  
  
"Oh, please." L'Erena rolled her eyes.  
"If I didn't know better, I'd think that you were casting aspersions on my number-attaining prowess."  
  
"Maybe I am."  
  
"Ooh, a challenge!" Rudol said gleefully, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "That's a bet you're going to lose, m'dear. I can get anyone I set my sights on. I mean, I've got it all: boyish good looks, suave charm, sexy British accent—"  
  
"—modesty—"  
  
"Yes, that too." He had the decency to grin sheepishly and accept the slight. "I can always count on you guys to keep my ego in check."  
  
"Really, what would you do without us?" Lumaria said.  
  
"Oh, I imagine that I'd be completely lost in the world without a true friend to my name. You two are my anchor."  
  
"And we love you too," Lumaria said, reaching to squeeze both Rudol's and L'Erena's hand affectionately.  
  
There was a brief moment of silence where the three of them smiled and shared a moment before L'Erena announced, "Okay, enough mushiness, let's move on."  
  
"Agreed," Rudol conceded, and reached for one of the salad plates and began playing with it. He found it nearly impossible to sit still for too long and felt the insatiable need to keep his hands occupied. Unfortunately, he was also notoriously careless, and it only took a few spins for the plate to slip off the tabletop and shatter on the floor.  
  
"See? This is why we can't have nice things!" Lumaria scolded him as the waitress hurried over to clean up the mess.  
  
"Oh, suck my dick," Rudol scoffed, using the toe of his sneaker to nudge the pieces of the broken dish away from him.  
  
"Sorry, the only dick I suck is Even's, but thank you for offering. It was very polite of you."  
  
"I was being facetious. And I _really_ did not need to know that." He shook his head slightly to rid himself of the mental image that had formed.  
  
"Why? You can tell me about sucking that guy Dilan's dick if it makes you feel better."  
  
"We're in public, boys. Can we please stop talking about sucking dicks?" L'Erena interrupted, raising her voice unnecessarily and attracting even more attention to them. The waitress who was cleaning up the mess appeared to be thinking that she was decidedly not being paid enough for this.  
  
"Hey, speak of the devil," Lumaria whispered conspiratorially.  
  
"What, d'you see a dick?" Rudol grinned, twisting around in his seat to see what Lulu was staring at. The laughter in his voice died instantaneously. "Oh god." His face blanched white at the sight of a group of four being seated, and he slid further down in his chair to avoid being seen. "Oh god oh god oh god."  
  
"What?" L'Erena asked impatiently, turning around herself to figure out what was petrifying them so much.  
  
"Dilan," Lumaria stated simply.  
  
"Ooh, if I cross paths with him tonight…" L'Erena cracked her knuckles, still slightly bitter over Friday night's debacle.  
  
"Please don't," Rudol begged her. "It'll only draw attention to me, and the last thing I need is to be pulverized."  
  
"Never mind that," Lumaria said, waving away any concerns of Rudol being reduced to a pulp, "who's he with?"  
  
Rudol chanced a glance at Dilan and his companions. "The other big guy is his roommate, Aeleus, and the little twerp next to him is his boyfriend, Ienzo. He's quite annoying, but in a rather entertaining fashion. And he has horrible taste in music. And I… don't know who Dilan's sitting next to." He glowered at the unknown boy, clearly laboring under the delusion that Dilan was on a double date with Aeleus and Ienzo, the obligatory pre-established couple. Why else would there be a fourth wheel?   
  
\------------------------  
To his credit, Ienzo waited a full ten minutes after meeting Braig to casually inquire about his relationship with Myde.  
  
"Oh god, here we go again. Remind me why I invited you to come with us again?" Dilan asked, rolling his eyes long-sufferingly. Ienzo glared at him and gave Aeleus an imperious look, silently requesting him to intervene on his behalf; the last thing he needed was for Dilan to ruin his first impression. Aeleus, however, steadfastly pretended that he didn't notice anything. Defending Ienzo would have diminished him in Dilan's eyes, and Dilan already thought that he'd gone soft. Besides, he had his personal reasons for not wanting Ienzo to discuss Myde, the same reasons that made him want to crush the stereo every time a _Flaming Oceans_ song aired on the radio.  
  
Braig, for his part, took the question in stride. "Why, you a fangirl?" he asked amiably.  
  
Aeleus could have sworn that he saw Ienzo blush at the comment but quickly decided that it must have been a trick of the light, because Ienzo _never_ blushed. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if he was physically incapable of doing so.  
  
"No," Ienzo said icily, and the frost in the air was palpable ( _Oh, good,_ Aeleus thought with some relief, _he's back to normal_ ). "I am most certainly not."  
  
"Whoa, chill out, little dude," Braig said, holding up his hands in surrender. "Just asking. But really, there's not much to say. He's just an ordinary guy, nothing special – well, I mean, he's special to me, but you know what I mean. But there's more to him than just being a rock god, more than most people realize. And he's alllll mine." He grinned and sat back, but there was a note of finality in his voice that said that he considered the subject closed. Ienzo got the hint and backed off, reasoning that there would be plenty of opportunities to learn more about Myde in the future, as long as Braig remained friends with Aeleus.  
  
"Deep, man," Dilan said, holding up his glass of beer in a sign of respect.  
  
"Yeah, I don't ordinarily get all philosophical like that," Braig said, scratching the back of his neck, "but I made an exception this time."  
  
Aeleus glanced sideways at Ienzo, trying to gauge what he was thinking, but found Ienzo's expression to be perfectly inscrutable, a careful blank mask. He opened his mouth, intending to say something to him as an aside, when their waitress reappeared at their table to take their orders. By the time she left, with an order pad bearing promises of red meat and buffalo wings (and a salad, in Ienzo's case, because he was always the difficult one, not caring much for burgers, ribs, or steak), he'd missed his opportunity.  
  
"So, Dillhole," Braig began the moment she left, propping his chin in his hand. Some things never change, including, apparently, Braig's favorite nickname for Dilan.  
  
"You are such an ass," Dilan said, but he couldn't help but grin. Aeleus cracked up, and even Ienzo had to crack a thin, appreciative smile at the good-natured jibe. Then again, the smaller boy always did approve of instances where Dilan was the butt of the joke.  
  
"While we're on the topic…" Braig continued. "I've got Myde, Aeleus is with Ienzo. Who're you banging?"  
  
"No one at the moment," Dilan answered shortly, giving off the distinct impression that he didn't want to talk about it. However, Braig never was very good at picking up on subtle clues, so he continued to pester him until Dilan finally gave up and talked.  
  
"I was dating this guy, but he dumped me a few days ago. Long story short, he showed his true colors and it turns out he wasn't who I thought he was. Now can we please shut up about it?"  
  
Heedless of his request, Braig burst out laughing and started singing off-key, "So don't be afraid to let them show, your true colors, true colors!"  
  
Ienzo winced and said delicately, "Leave the singing to your boyfriend. Please."  
  
"Yeah, well, his true colors aren't beautiful like a rainbow," Dilan said, voice laden with sarcasm. "And Ienzo's right, you suck at singing."  
  
"Agreeing with me, Dilan?" Ienzo commented loftily. "This seems to be becoming a startling trend."  
  
"Come on, dude, I had to. It was funny," Braig said, still laughing. Dilan finally conceded that he had a point, which was a cause for much celebration in Braig's eyes and resulted in beers all around.  
  
Ienzo sighed in exasperation at the antics of his dinner partners. He muttered to himself, "You're just like they are," and sat back in his chair. Braig's novelty had worn off on him, and he settled for sipping his water and observing the shenanigans with a critical eye. Without making eye contact, he casually placed his hand on Aeleus's knee, rubbing his thumb back and forth. Contrary to what his boyfriend may have thought, he was not unaware of the other's jealousy and worrying, as foolish as he thought it was.  
  
Aeleus looked over at him in surprise and his face visibly lit up, clearly pleased. He wordlessly covered Ienzo's small, delicate hand with his own, much larger palm. Ienzo finally caught his eye and smiled enigmatically, and he somehow felt strangely reassured that Ienzo wasn't going anywhere, Myde or no Myde, and that everything would be just fine.  
  
\------------------------  
"Okay, who peed in your cornflakes?" L'Erena finally asked, after their meals had arrived without a single change in Rudol's disgruntled behavior.  
  
"No one," he grumbled in reply, stabbing his fries with his fork as if they had grievously wronged him. "I'm just saying that it seems too soon for him to be going on a date with some other guy, that's all."  
  
" _You_ dumped _him_ , remember? Why do you even care whether or not he's dating someone else?"  
  
Rudol ignored her and began meticulously shredding the remains of his chicken. "And I don't even _like_ cornflakes."  
  
"Rudy." Lumaria put down his fork and addressed him directly. "I hate to break it to you, but you're acting like a total hypocrite."  
  
"I'm not being hypocritical," he said petulantly. "What kind of friends are you guys? You're supposed to be supportive of me, and I am so sick of being told that I'm all these things that — that I'm not. I'm grabbing a smoke." He tossed his napkin onto his plate and skulked away from the table, taking the longest route possible to avoid crossing paths with Dilan's table.  
  
L'Erena heaved a sigh and rested her chin on her hands. "Okay, what is his deal? We never even heard about this guy until Friday night, and now he's pissing and moaning when there's the slightest chance that he's found someone else. For someone who supposedly doesn't do relationships, he's certainly taking this hard. Is he blind as a bat or just plain dumb?"  
  
"I know, right? I mean, he's not dumb. Usually. But don't you think that he'd realize that the reason why he's reacting this way is because he probably regrets dumping Dilan in the first place?"  
  
"I don't know, Lulu. He can be thickheaded when he wants to be. But you're right, there's definitely something fishy about this. Ready to do some sleuthing?"  
  
"You know it, girl." Lumaria grinned, a manic gleam in his eyes.  
  
"Okay, well—" Out of the corner of her eye, L'Erena spotted Rudol's approaching figure and abruptly stopped talking.  
  
"What were you two talking about?" Rudol asked accusingly, glancing back and forth at his two friends.  
  
"Nothing. God, Rudy, what's your problem tonight?"  
  
"What problem?" He craned his neck to see what was occurring at Dilan's table. The four boys were laughing together, and he scowled darkly, slumping down into his seat.  
  
" _That_ problem. The pissy attitude. In case you've forgotten, we haven't done anything wrong, Rudy."  
  
There was a moment's silence as the blond digested this. "Sorry," he finally apologized, the anger dissipating and glumness settling in.  
  
"It's okay," Lumaria said, patting him on the hand affectionately. "Why are you back already, anyway? You didn't even have time to get outside, let alone smoke a whole cigarette."  
  
"I forgot that I'm not supposed to smoke for two weeks after I got my tongue piercing," he said, sounding utterly dejected.  
  
"Okay," L'Erena said, clapping her hands together. "I think we're all forgetting the purpose of tonight. It's a Boy's Night Out, guys. That means that _you_ need to stop obsessing about your ex, and _you_ need to stop texting Even underneath the table."  
  
Lumaria jumped and looked up guiltily, snapping his phone shut and pocketing it without arguing.  
  
"Thank you. You two, switch spots. That way you can't see Dilan." When her two companions obediently followed her directions, the blonde smiled. "Good. Now, Rudy, I think it's high time you told us just what went on between you and Dilan."  
  
"Hang on," Rudol interrupted. "I thought you just said this was a Boy's Night Out."  
  
"Well, duh, but we can still gossip, right? Besides, I think you have a lot that you need to get off your chest." Lumaria nodded encouragingly, his eyes wide.  
  
"I have nothing that I need to get off my chest. I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."  
  
"Puh-lease," Lumaria said, rolling his eyes. "You've been in a rotten mood ever since you saw Dilan, all because he's supposedly on a double date with someone else. Rennie's right, it's about time you told us about your relationship with this guy. 'Cause other than what we overheard when he confronted you at the bar on Friday, I have no idea what happened. Do you, Rennie?"  
  
"Not a clue."  
  
"There's really nothing to tell," Rudol warned. "I didn't tell you about my relationship with him because it wasn't anything serious to begin with. I met him in my religions class at the beginning of the semester, I decided I wanted to bag him, I did. End of story."  
  
"Beginning of the semester…" L'Erena said, drawing the words out. "So you dated him for two months before dumping him recently, then?"  
  
"We weren't dating, I told you that. I don't _date._ "  
  
"Yeah, but you still saw him regularly, right? And you didn't fuck every time, right? I'd call that dating."  
  
"Not necessarily," he argued. "I mean, prostitutes can have regular clients, but they're not dating them."  
  
"Oh my god, Rudy, please tell me you're not a prostitute."  
  
"Well, I'm not denying that I could use the money," he quipped, "but no, no I'm not. It was an _example_ , you great prat."  
  
"Okay, well, whatever you want to call it. Two months, right? How fast did you move? Come on, you didn't tell us any of this while it was happening. Indulge us."  
  
Rudol looked from one to the other, both faces shining eagerly, and sighed. He might as well humor them, since they clearly weren't about to let the matter drop. "Two weeks. I saw him for two weeks before shagging him on the kitchen counter in his apartment. Happy?"  
  
"Ooooooh!" L'Erena and Lumaria gasped in unison, exchanging excited looks.  
  
"I love getting the juicy details," Lumaria said gleefully. "But, you know, there's one thing I want to know. Why'd you dump him anyway? The sex had to have been good if you stuck with him for two months, whether or not you were exclusive. And I mean, he's pretty hot, if you're into the whole beefy linebacker thing. Which, you know, I'm not." Lumaria wrinkled his nose.  
  
"Halfback," Rudol corrected automatically.  
  
"What?"  
  
"He wasn't a linebacker, he played halfback."  
  
"For someone who supposedly wasn't emotionally invested in this relationship, you sure know a lot about him," Lumaria said shrewdly, wagging his fork at him.  
  
"Lulu. Shut up. You know why I know what his position was on the football team? Because I bet on him, that's why. I bet on him and lost, which is exactly why I'm in so much debt right now."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Really." He took a sip of pink lemonade. "So technically, it's his fault that I owe the bookie over $1700." He very nearly let slip a comment about how the money he swiped from Dilan was fair payback but caught himself just in time. Somehow, he didn't think L'Erena and Lumaria would approve of his kleptomaniac tendencies. He couldn't even use the excuse of paying back his debts as an alibi, seeing as how he began filching a few dollars here and there to fund his gambling ventures in the first place, back before he found out that he was knee-deep in debt. But honestly, if people had the cash to burn, what was the harm in borrowing a couple bucks every now and then? He _needed_ the money to gamble, they didn't. And it wasn't like he was stealing significant amounts of money, anyways. In fact, they probably wouldn't even notice anything was amiss.  
  
He quickly covered up his mistake by adding, "S'not like I held it against him or anything, though. I took a risk by making a prop bet in the first place. God knows I won't be making that mistake again."  
  
"Did you ever tell him that you bet on him?" L'Erena asked curiously.  
  
Rudol looked at her like she was insane. "No, of course not. I _lost_. Why would I mention it?"  
  
"You didn't answer my questionnn," Lulu prodded, leaning into him and nudging him with his shoulder. "What made you dump him in the first place if things were going well? You had a regular lay, isn't that what you wanted?"  
  
"I don't know." He thought about it for a moment. "He had a picture of us." His voice sounded slightly odd.  
  
"Well, what's weird about that? You were dating for two months."  
  
"I told you, we weren't da—"  
  
"Yeah, there's nothing weird about that," L'Erena chimed in, overriding Rudol's exasperated protests. "I've been dating Nami for a week, and I've got a picture of the two of us. She took it when we went to the movies the other day."  
  
"Yeah, well, you're you, and you move fast," Lumaria informed her.  
  
"Oh please, I do not move fast," L'Erena scoffed. "I'm being a total Girl Scout here, Lulu. I haven't even touched her yet."  
  
"Not even over the bra?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Wow, she really must be special," Lumaria mused. "But like I was saying, that's you. And Rudy here apparently can't handle going steady with anyone. I bet what happened is that he saw this picture of him and Dilan and freaked out, so he decided that he had to cut things off then before the relationship got too serious for him to deal with."  
  
"Ooh, commitment issues, you think? Definitely a possibility, considering his track record."  
  
"Did it ever occur to either of you," Rudol asked, raising his voice to be heard, "that maybe I dumped him because I got bored of him? Or that I was ready to move on?"  
  
"Don't be stupid, of course not. You were freaking out when you saw him."  
  
"Well, of course I was freaking out. The last time I saw him, he almost throttled me. Now can we please get off the subject?" Rudol said testily.  
  
"Well, I thought we'd save 'how much money do you have towards paying off your debt?' for dessert, but if you want…"  
  
"Anything would be better than dissecting my love life, thanks."  
  
"Alright, then, how are you doing with the money? You haven't mentioned it in ages. Are you having trouble?"  
  
"No, no, I'm doing good," he said vaguely, stirring his lemonade with his straw. "About halfway there, I think." Lies. He hadn't even thought about his growing debt in at least a week, let alone figured out how much money he had yet to earn. He felt a small twinge of guilt in the pit of his stomach; lying to his best friends was a lot more difficult than lying to, say, Dilan.  
  
"Well, that's good, but you only have two weeks left, Rudy. You still need, like, $850, and that's a ton of money. Have you thought about what you're going to do to get the rest of it?"  
  
He looked up from his drink to see two concerned pairs of eyes looking at him, and he realized that they were a lot more worried about his situation than he was at the moment. "Dunno," he mused. "I could always become a con artist. I'm a natural."  
  
"Oh, would you be serious for once?" L'Erena cried in exasperation. "Stop messing around. Do you even know what Seifer and his crowd are going to do to you if you don't come up with the money in time? This isn't just one of your games, Rudol, this is the real thing."  
  
"Don't be so surprised, Rennie," Lumaria said. "He doesn't even know how to be serious, which is probably why he's in this situation to begin with. And he's always messing around with anything that has two legs and can walk. Why do you think he can't handle a normal relationship, let alone hold onto his money?"  
  
That was the last straw. Ticked off, Rudol threw his napkin on his plate and stood up. "If you've finished discussing my every flaw, I'll just be going now. I'm sure you'll be much happier without me here." He tried to leave the table, but L'Erena's hand closed around his wrist.  
  
"Rudy, we're sorry, that was over the line," she pleaded, her voice apologetic, "We'll stop harassing you now, I promise. But please, just listen to me — even if you don't do anything about Dilan—"  
  
"— There's nothing to do. Why can't you two understand that? I dumped him, I don't care about him, I never _did_ care about him to begin with. I've moved on to bigger and better things—"  
  
"— I know, I know, but let me finish. Right now, your biggest worry shouldn't be about any of that stuff. You've got to get the rest of that money, or there won't be any you left."  
  
"I gotta take a leak," Rudol said abruptly and tugged his wrist out of L'Erena's grasp, ducking away to the men's restroom. Once he was safely locked in a bathroom stall, he leaned against the graffitied door and closed his eyes. He counted to ten and exhaled through his nose.  
  
"Man," he muttered under his breath and ran his hand over his face. "I love them and all, they're my best mates, but they can be as annoying as all get out. They just don't get it."  
  
Still, it was kind of unnerving, how shaken up he was by this. Ridiculous, really. It was shock, that's all. After all, the last time he ran into Dilan, he barely escaped with his limbs intact, and his ego had certainly taken a bruising.  
  
"Okay, okay, snap out of it, Rudol," he mumbled, trying to shake himself out of his funk. "You just need a confidence boost, that's all. Forget about him, he was a mistake. He doesn't know what he's talking about. You can do better than him. You can get in anyone's pants, because you're just that good." As he tried to psych himself up, a flash of inspiration hit him. Keeping his voice low, he sang under his breath, "Hey now, you're a porn star, get your freak on – get paid! Hey now, turn that flash on, take your clothes off – get laid!" He grinned, suddenly feeling much better. His confidence returned and his laid-back manner restored, he unlatched the door to find a man washing his hands at the sink and looking at him oddly.  
  
"S'up?" Rudol said in his best macho impression. He bit back a laugh at the stranger's facial expression and left, his mood much improved.  
  
L'Erena and Lumaria watched his face carefully as he sat back down at the table but tactfully chose not to say anything. They didn't breathe another word about Dilan or Rudol's debt that night, instead choosing to chatter about the prospects of their favorite competitors on _America's Next Top Model_ , or the houseplants that Lumaria was illegally keeping in his dorm room, or L'Erena's latest date with Nami, whom she was still smitten with. They split a dessert like they always did, a decadent chocolate brownie topped with vanilla bean ice-cream and a rich chocolate sauce. Like always, L'Erena hogged more than her fair share of ice-cream, and like always, Lumaria and Rudol waged battle over the last bite of brownie, ending only when Lulu sent Rudol's fork clattering to the floor and the waitress shot them a reproachful look.  
  
When Dilan's table got up noisily and left the restaurant laughing, neither Lumaria nor L'Erena said anything, simply exchanging a quick glance with each other. Rudol stared at the bill to avoid the impulse to look over at Dilan, and it was with some hesitation and much arguing that he allowed his friends to pay for his meal. He made a mental reminder to pay back Lulu and Rennie for everything they did for him once he paid off his gambling debts.  
  
They left the restaurant together, and Rudol slipped away from the others with a fabricated excuse about needing to buy some groceries at the campus convenience store (lies, swift and smooth, spilled all too easily from his mouth), when he was really seeking to spend the night in somebody else's bed in a misguided attempt to erase the doubts that lurked deep within him.


	6. Chapter 6

Rudol's first conscious thought was that his head was splitting in two. He could _feel_ the blood throbbing in his temples as the blurry events of last night slowly swam into focus. Wincing, he tried to sit up, and a fresh wave of alcohol-induced nausea washed over him. He blearily checked the time on his watch, which he had evidently fell asleep wearing, and grimaced. Nothing like being hungover at 5:30 A.M. on a Friday morning.  
  
As tempting as it was to stay in bed and sleep it off, he wasn't tucked in his own bed and couldn't afford to stay around until last night's hookup awoke. He wasn't a fan of the awkward early morning encounter. Against his better judgment, he carefully eased himself out of the unfamiliar bed and silently gathered up his clothes.  
  
He felt miserable this morning, and it wasn't solely the fault of the hangover, although that admittedly wasn't helping matters. No, Rudol's heart felt strangely heavy in his chest, a foreign sensation to him. He couldn't place _why_ he felt so dejected, which was the most worrisome part. Ordinarily, a string of one-night stands, a binge of sorts, left him feeling elated, as if he was on top of the world, ruler of all he surveyed. Today, however, he just felt… empty. And even though he rarely lacked for someone to share a bed with, he felt more alone than ever. _When_ , he wondered, _did getting lucky turn into simply being bored?_  
  
Rudol tugged his shirt over his head and quickly scanned the room to make sure he was still in possession of all his personal belongings. He couldn't help but catch sight of a wallet tossed carelessly on the bedside table and instinctively made a convulsive motion towards it, but something made him stop. He glanced shiftily at the stranger sleeping a mere two feet away from the temptation of free cash and shrugged uneasily, letting himself out of the room before he could change his mind.  
  
Rudol glanced about him as he left the building to figure out where on earth he was (the events of last night were still quite hazy) and realized that he was on the far end of campus in an apartment disturbingly close to where Dilan lived. Rather than begin the long walk of shame back to his own dorm room, he sat down on a bench outside, heedless of the chilly, early morning air. He replayed the events of the last few days in his head, trying to see if he could pinpoint just when – how, why – he started feeling this way, this incomprehensible sensation that he couldn't put in words.  
  
Tuesday night. Sure, it had begun well enough. He'd given L'Erena and Lumaria the slip after dinner, firing off a quick text to one of his occasional hookups, euphemistically listed in his phone as "BJ Boy." Rudol couldn't be arsed remembering his real name when he only used him for one thing. Besides, he was only an every-so-often, on-the-side thing, and B.J. was as good a nickname as any.  
  
 _Hey stud, you up for a quickie?_  
  
Barely half an hour, his booty call met him at the door, shirtless and impatient. "Just make it quick," he said, stepping aside to let Rudol into his apartment.  
  
"Well, someone's eager tonight. What's the matter, can't get laid?" Rudol commented slyly, but he was already on his knees, unbuckling the other man's belt and pushing his jeans down around his thighs.  
  
"Oh, just be quiet," he groaned, closing his eyes and bracing himself against the wall. "I like you so much more when you keep your mouth shut."  
  
"Funny, people seem to express that opinion of me a lot," Rudol murmured.  
  
"Then maybe you should list—nghh," he cut his diatribe short, gritting his teeth as Rudol's mouth closed around him.  
  
Rudol had to smirk in self-satisfaction as he reached between his own legs (for he never gave if he didn't get something out of it himself); there was nothing he liked better than driving someone out of his (or her, he wasn't picky) mind with pleasure. It was an ego boost. Still, it didn't take him long to notice that B.J. was distracted. The other man kept glancing nervously at the clock until Rudol, annoyed that he wasn't paying enough attention to him when he was doing him a favor and sucking him off, bit down. Not enough to really _hurt_ him, just enough to make him hiss and sharply tug his hair. His focus now solely directed on Rudol, he kept his grasp tight until he finally came with a shuddery gasp and unclenched his fists. He took a moment to recover, catching his breath before speaking, his voice a low croak.  
  
"God, you're good. Okay, time for you to go."  
  
Rudol swallowed and wiped his mouth. "What about me? I didn't finish yet!" he said indignantly.  
  
"Too bad. Now seriously, _get out_ before my girlfriend gets home."  
  
He couldn't help it; he laughed. "Crikey, I've nabbed me a breeder!"  
  
Unfortunately, the other guy didn't seem to find it quite as funny as he did. And, okay, maybe that wasn't exactly the best thing to say in such a situation. On second thought, the threesome comment probably wasn't such a good idea either. He would have to remember that it's not necessarily wise to run his mouth off whenever an entertaining thought struck him.  
  
Wednesday night had held more promise. He picked up a chick at a club, a petite redhead who was making eyes at him from across the bar. He played the part of the gentleman, charming her with subtle seduction; it was actually the girl who suggested that he come back to her place. She was young, most likely a freshman, but saucy, and he was intrigued. So, it was with high hopes that he accompanied her to the brownstone that she lived in, which was an unexpected perk, since it afforded more privacy than the large dormitory-style residences.  
  
Of course, girls could never make it that easy to get into their pants, and he was forced to wait in her room while she retreated to the bathroom to get ready. ( _That was the problem with women,_ Rudol thought, _they felt the pathological need to prepare for sex. Can't they see that they're already beautiful as they are?_ )  
  
He was busy studying the collection of seashells that decorated the top of her dresser when his phone blared from his pocket, causing him to jump. _"Let's have some fun, this beat is sick, I wanna take a ride on your disco stick—"_  
  
He automatically flipped his phone open and held it to his ear. "Hullo?"  
  
"Rudyyy," an all-too-familiar voice slurred, a clear sign that its owner was completely sloshed.  
  
Stunned, he pulled the phone away from his ear and frowned at it before venturing, "Dilan? What on earth—"  
  
He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence, because Dilan blurted out, "You _suck!_ "  
  
Taken aback and caught off guard, he had no idea how to respond. "Er…"  
  
"Yeah, that's right," Dilan plowed on, the alcohol loosening his tongue considerably. "You suck, you and your, your dirty, backstabbing, cheating ways. And I don't care how good you are in bed, 'cause I'm done with you and your motherfucking mind games. Fuck you!" There was a slam and a shuffling sound before the phone finally disconnected, and Rudol was left staring at his phone in disbelief.  
  
"Who was that?" the redheaded girl asked, looking at him curiously as she returned from the bathroom, all dolled up and ready.  
  
"No one, m'dear," Rudol said smoothly, forcing what he hoped was a natural smile and tossing the phone aside. "You look ravishing." He was determined not to let the interruption ruin his conquest.  
  
The second time Dilan called, a mere ten minutes later, he was too far gone to hear the persistent ringing of his cell phone.  
  
It would have been a good night (and he fooled himself into believing that it _was_ ) had he been able to dismiss the drunk-dialed phone call. Instead, it lurked in the darkest recesses of his mind, even as he seduced the girl with falsehoods and flattery.  
  
He couldn't stick around afterwards. He just couldn't. Under ordinary circumstances, he would spend the night and wake up early enough in the morning to slip away undetected, or if he was feeling antsy and wanted to book it, he would at least wait until his partner was asleep to make his getaway. He wasn't _that_ cruel.  
  
Until now, apparently. He must have been more badly shaken up by Dilan's accusations than even he realized, because he couldn't handle playing the waiting game, couldn't handle staying a minute longer than was necessary.  
  
The redhead smiled up at him after he'd finished, the sultriness she'd exuded in the club giving way to the innocent, glowing face of a smitten young girl. He wasn't able to shake off the disconcerted feeling that descended upon him when Dilan called, and he was ashamed to say that he ditched the girl immediately afterward, instead of doing the respectable thing and waiting until morning, or at the very least, after she had fallen asleep, to make his exit. Distracted and strangely unsettled, Rudol mumbled some excuse, he couldn't even remember what exactly he'd said, and left her alone and naked in her bed, leaving behind another broken heart in his wake.  
  
Thursday night. He went out with the sole purpose of getting as drunk out of his mind as he possibly could. And if he didn't have to pay for it, all the better. He had an uncanny ability to single out the one person in the bar who would, with a little bit of coercion, would unthinkingly buy him as many drinks as he wanted. It didn't take him long to spot his target at the bar. He swiftly slid into place in the seat next to him and casually greeted him with an offhand quip. "I need a stiff one," he commented idly, glancing sidelong at his neighbor to gauge his reaction. "And a drink too, for what it's worth." He grinned mischievously, knowing that he had the boy he'd set his sights on hook, line, and sinker. Within minutes, Rudol had his prey wrapped around his finger and managed to get him to buy him a drink. Or two. Or four.  
  
After five drinks, things were a bit fuzzy. He distinctly remembered tumbling into bed with the other man, who had imbibed just as much as alcohol as he had and was consequently somewhat uninhibited and rough in his actions, if the blossoming bruises on his wrist were anything to go by. The sex itself was electrifying yet ultimately unsatisfying for reasons that he still could not put his finger on. It was disconcerting.  
  
Now, he was more lost than ever. He blindly pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it in the hopes that it would steady him. It didn't work. Not even the hit of nicotine to his lungs, the intoxicating rush of that first drag, helped. If anything, it made him feel worse, which only made the situation even more bizarre because cancer sticks always made him feel better. He exhaled and tossed the unfinished cigarette to his feet, grinding it into the concrete sidewalk.  
  
"I don't get it," he said aloud, baffled by the unfamiliar, unnamed emotion twisting in his gut. "Can there be too much of a good thing?" Unable to answer the question, he heaved a sigh and buried his head in his hands. He rubbed his face and mumbled, "I don't know what's wrong with me today. Maybe I just need a break. Yeah, some time away from it all, to figure out why I'm feeling so depressed and focus on getting the rest of that money." He sat up straight again, running his fingers through his short, blond hair before dropping his hand in his lap. "… Shit. That's a lot of money."  
  
He could have laughed; the enormity of the situation only just struck him. Still, he knew what he had to do, and that entailed not running away and hiding from his problems anymore. He stood, full of newfound determination, and set off down the grey, deserted street.  
  
\------------------------  
  
Step One: Find out just how much money he really had, and how much left he needed to pay off his debts. His first stop was the ATM, where he drained his debit card of every last cent in his checking account. He returned to his dorm room, which was remarkably clean and empty, given that he rarely spent much time in it these days, and began ransacking his pockets, school bag, and dresser for any loose cash. Lastly, he emptied his wallet and began carefully counting his accumulated money.  
  
"That's it? $553?" Rudol said, aghast. "Oh, you have _got_ to be fucking with me. I can't make $1200 in two weeks! Not even two weeks – twelve days!" He slumped against the wall, trying to come to grips with the situation and resist the urge to fall back on his usual method of dealing with things – denial. "Okay," he said, trying to calm himself down. "I'll just have to ask for an extension, that's all. No sweat. But first, I need to hit up Rennie and Lulu." He knew that he wouldn't be able to do this alone. It was time to stop sailing solo and start letting others in, especially the only two souls in the world who accepted and supported him, no matter his numerous flaws.  
  
\------------------------  
  
He went to see Lumaria first. He knew that the other boy would be up despite the time; he was an early riser, impossibly perky and upbeat at 8 A.M., when Rudol and L'Erena were fighting to keep their eyes open even with the assistance of highly caffeinated beverages. L'Erena would be sound asleep if he came calling at this hour, and he wasn't about to risk being shanked for rousing her from her slumber.  
  
He wet his lips and, taking a deep breath, rapped twice on the door. It swung open, and a fluffy, cotton-candy hued head poked out, bringing with it the overpowering smell of cherry blossom body wash and lavender-scented shampoo.  
  
"Yes? Oh, Rudy!" Surprised, Lumaria pulled the door open further and stepped aside to let him into his suite. "What are you doing here so early?"  
  
Rudol took a deep breath; it was now or never. "I need your help," he confessed. "Is that job at your nursery still available?"  
  
A slow, catlike smirk crept across Lumaria's face. "I knew it," he said, his voice smug with satisfaction. "I told my uncle to keep the position open for a bit. I knew you'd come around."  
  
Rudol collapsed on a kitchen chair. "How do you know me so well?" he asked, staring up at the ceiling. "Sometimes I think you and Rennie know more about me than I do. I just wish it hadn't taken me so long to realize that I needed to do this the hard way."  
  
Lumaria patted his hand kindly. "Hey, that's what friends are for. It's still early yet," he said, glancing at the clock, "but I'll call my uncle at 8:00, and he'll probably want to talk to you. I'm gonna make breakfast now – do you want to shower or something while you wait?"  
  
"That," Rudol said, "sounds like a plan." The prospect of a job lifted a heavy weight off his shoulders, and it was with a considerably lighter heart that he emerged from the bathroom half an hour later.  
  
"I smell like a fucking fairy," Rudol complained good-naturedly, toweling his hair dry.  
  
"Hey, just be glad that I ran out of passion fruit and sweet pea the other day," Lumaria warned, pointing a spatula at him.  
  
"I dunno, cherry blossom and rose petals is pretty bad. I'd almost prefer the fruit," Rudol said, but he sat down at the table with a grin nonetheless. "Are those chocolate chip pancakes?"  
  
"Yup. Dig in," Lumaria answered, sliding the plate onto the table and joining Rudol.  
  
"Cheers."  
  
"So once we're done eating, I figured I'd call my uncle and we'd see about getting that job."  
  
"Excellent," Rudol said through a mouthful of pancake, giving him the thumbs-up sign since he was quite sure that Lumaria couldn't understand a word he said. He finished shoveling the pancakes down his throat and handed him the phone, antsy to know for sure whether or not he'd be hired.  
  
Lumaria held up a finger warning him to be patient and finished his own pancake before taking the phone and dialing his uncle's number.  
  
"Hey, Uncle Marly, it's Lulu," he greeted when his uncle answered. "Remember how I told you that I had a friend who could use a job at the nursery? Well, he's here with me and he decided that he'd be interested in filling the position. Mhm. Yeah, sure, I'll put him on." He passed the phone to Rudol, whispering, "He wants to talk to you. Just be honest with him, and I'm sure he'll take you in."  
  
Rudol nodded twice. "Hullo?" he ventured.  
  
The line crackled with static as Lumaria's uncle spoke. "So you're Rudol, Lulu's buddy, are you?"  
  
"Yes sir, that's me."  
  
"He speaks very highly of you. We're primarily a family-run business, but any friend of Lumaria who deserves such high praise is welcome around here, and he assures me that you'd do a good job. I'd just like to ask you a few quick questions before I make any promises."  
  
"Of course, sir," Rudol said with a surprised glance at Lumaria, smiling at him.  
  
"Alright. First of all, tell me a little bit about your skill set. What do you know about plants? Can you lift two 50 pound bags of mulch and carry them easily? What's your work ethic?"  
  
Rudol remembered Lumaria's advice on being honest and carefully weighed his answers. "I'm afraid I don't know much about plants, only what Lulu's told me on occasions. I'm a quick learner, though. I don't exactly do much weightlifting, but I believe I'm capable of doing that much. I've worked at my uncle's corner shop in the summers, restocking coolers and the like, so I've done quite a bit of heavy lifting. One flat of soda weighs about 22 pounds, and I've had to lift a number of them and bring them out of the back room when refilling the coolers. The bags of mulch shouldn't be too difficult. As for my work ethic, I'm willing to work as hard as possible. I'm investing all my energy into this job and am prepared to do whatever it takes. You can count on me, sir."  
  
"Wonderful. Like I said, I've heard only positive things about you from Lulu. I like you and am sure you'll fit in just line, as long as you can keep up with the work. I'll be taking you on for mainly manual labor, so I expect a lot from you. I can only pay you minimum wage, I'm afraid—"  
  
"That's perfectly fine, I assure you."  
  
"—But I'd be glad to have you aboard. Our busiest season is fast approaching, so we usually hire seasonal help at around this time, especially someone who can help with the manual labor. Come down tomorrow and let me see what you can do. We'll get some training under your belt, and you can start first thing on Monday. I'll put you alongside Lulu to start. He's in here all the time, about 26 hours a week, I'd say, but that might be a bit much for you…"  
  
"Oh no," Rudol interjected quickly. "I'd be glad to come in with him! The more hours the better, I say."  
  
He could hear the smile in his employer's voice. "That's what I like to hear. Have Lulu bring you in tomorrow, and we'll see what you're capable of us."  
  
"Thank you so much, sir, I greatly appreciate it," Rudol said, his voice sincere. "I'll see you tomorrow, and thanks again."  
  
A grinning Lumaria took the phone from him  
  
"Thanks, Uncle Marly! You're the best. I knew you'd like him, I told you he was a good kid. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye-bye!"  
  
"Did you really tell him all that about me?" Rudol asked him the minute he hung up, touched by Lumaria's kind words.  
  
"Of course. I told you I'd put in a good word – and really, you are a good kid, even if you make bad decisions sometimes. You're my best friend for a reason, Rudy." He leaned across the table to give Rudol a hug. "And I'm impressed, and so proud of you – I didn't know you could be so polite!"  
  
"Well, I am British, you know," he said modestly, bowing his head in acknowledgment, and Lumaria let out a laugh.  
  
"And now we're going to be coworkers!" the pink-haired boy said, squealing and bouncing him up and down.  
  
Rudol laughed aloud and allowed himself to be jostled. "Bleeding pansy," he said, grinning broadly, and Lumaria giggled and let go of him.  
  
He checked his watch. 8:30. He had class at 10:00, so if he was going to solicit help from L'Erena as well, he had better act now. He bade Lumaria goodbye and, anticipating his other best friend's displeasure at being woken up on the one day she did not have class (asides from an engineering lab, but that was at 6:00 P.M. and hardly counted), decided that he ought to bring her some coffee to appease her. Rudol headed to the Starbucks down the block and bought a tall black coffee with a shot of espresso, extra hot, just the way she liked her morning coffee. Returning to the seventh floor, where both Lumaria and L'Erena resided, he braced himself and knocked on the door of Room 712.  
  
"Morning," he said brightly when she finally opened the door, bleary-eyed and resentful.  
  
"Oh god, it's you," L'Erena groused. "How can you be so fucking _cheery_ at this godforsaken hour – what time is it?"  
  
"8:40," he supplied, still smiling winningly in the hopes of assuaging her temper.  
  
"I hate you," she replied bitterly, but she held the door open and let him inside grudgingly.  
  
He held out her cup of coffee once he was safely inside, and L'Erena softened slightly, taking it gratefully and looking at him with a newfound respect. She breathed in the rich smell of espresso and sighed.  
  
"Okay, that redeems you a little bit," she admitted. "Now whaddya want?"  
  
"Can't a guy come and visit his best friend in the whole wide world for no reason?" he asked, sounding offended.  
  
She snorted in a rather unladylike fashion. "At 8:30 in the morning? Yeah right."  
  
"Okay, you got me," Rudol fessed up. "I'm here because I need your help, and I want to apologize. I… screwed up. I haven't been doing anything about getting the money I need. I lied, I don't have even half of the money I owe, only a little over $550. But I'm doing something now!" he said earnestly, speaking quickly and not giving L'Erena an opening to berate him. "Lulu got me a job, and I'm going to find the bookie and ask for an extension, and I can _do_ this, Rennie. I'm prepared to do whatever it takes. But I need your help." He held his wallet out to her. "Take my money. I can't trust myself to not make a stupid decision and gamble it away on a spur of the moment thing. That's what got me in this situation in the first place. And I need you to keep me in check. Every time I get a paycheck, I'll leave it with you. I figure if I don't have any cash on me, I won't be tempted to use it. And I'm going to be tempted, I know it." He ended his monologue and braced himself.  
  
L'Erena set down her coffee cup. "You _lied_ to us, Rudy," she accused, glaring at him through slit eyes.  
  
"I know I did. Can you forgive me?" he said, his voice pleading.  
  
For one long, horrible minute she looked at him unblinkingly before sighing. "Fine, fine, whatever. Give me the fucking money. I can't believe you woke me up so early for this."  
  
Rudol lit up when he realized that he had managed to avoid the thunderstorm of her wrath. He handed over his cash and said, "8:30 isn't even that early, Rennie."  
  
"To me, it is. You _know_ I sleep in 'til 11:00 on Fridays. Besides, I was up really late talking to Nami on the phone."  
  
"Ooh," Rudol said, forgetting all about his own troubles. "You really are serious about her, aren't you?" he asked her.  
  
She smiled faintly. "Yeah," she said, fingering the rim of her coffee cup. "It's like, it doesn't even matter what we're talking about. I just love listening to her voice. The content doesn't even matter – her voice is that of an angel. Like, she was telling me a long story about how her friend had just called her all upset and crying because she'd lost her virginity to some guy she met at a club because he made her feel special, and then he just _left_ , like right after he finished…"  
  
"You don't say," Rudol said nervously, tugging at his collar.  
  
L'Erena looked at him, and then realization dawned on her. "Oh, Rudy," she groaned. "Don't tell me you…"  
  
"Well, I didn't know she was a virgin!" he cried out, raising his palms defensively. "I mean, what kind of girl loses her virginity to a guy she met at a club, ferchrissakes?"  
  
"The kind of girl easily taken in by flattery," L'Erena replied, narrowing her eyes at him. "You are such a _dick_."  
  
"Be that as it may, I'm not apologizing," he said stubbornly, crossing his arms. "I didn't do anything wrong. Besides, she started it."  
  
L'Erena sighed and shook her head, giving up. "What are we going to do with you, Rudol?"  
  
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I've sworn off on the random hookups for a while. I really need to get this money and figure out why I'm feeling so lousy. Speaking of which, I need to go find Seifer after class and ask him about getting an extension… I'll talk to you later, I love you, and thank you!" He waved goodbye and hastily left the room, taking the stairs two at a time.  
  
\------------------------  
  
He didn't pay any attention at all in class, instead using the ninety minutes to calculate how much of an extension he would need. If he could work 26 hours a week at $8 an hour, and today was the 19th… he would have to shoot for the end of the next month and hope that Seifer was feeling generous, which he usually wasn't. Especially not to people like him, who avoided payments and bet way too much money in the first place.  
  
With these thoughts in mind, he left class and set off for the one place where the bookie was likely to be found. He approached the building with trepidation, glancing around the sketchy alleyway nervously. He spotted one of the large thugs, one of Seifer's cronies, who roughed him up a little bit that night so long ago, when he found out just how deep he'd fallen.  
  
Rudol approached the hulking, dark-skinned man and spoke up. "You're one of Seifer's mates, correct?" he said, trying to keep his voice light.  
  
"Maybe," the other man grunted, looking at him suspiciously. "And you're the kid who owes us, yah?"  
  
"Maybe." Two could play this game. "I actually came to talk to Seifer about that. I don't suppose you could convince him to, ah, grant me a teensy little extension?"  
  
"I dunno, Seifer doesn't do extensions, ya know?"  
  
"Please?" he wheedled. "Is there any way I can… _persuade_ you?" Hey, desperate times called for desperate measures.  
  
"Uh, man, I don't swing that way, ya know?" the larger man said, backing away from him.  
  
"Hey," called a sharp voice. "What's going on out here?"  
  
Rudol turned to find the blond haired, scarred bookie clad in his usual flashy trench-coat standing on the doorstep.  
  
"Oh, nothing of consequence," he said airily. "I simply wished to speak to you about the debts I owe."  
  
"What, you got the money?" Seifer asked, descending the steps and approaching Rudol with his arms folded.  
  
"Er, not exactly," Rudol said, stammering slightly.  
  
"You've got twelve days to get that money to me, or you'll be going home with what's left of you in a body-bag. $1721. Don't be late." Seifer's partner-in-crime cracked his knuckles threateningly to drive the message home.  
  
Rudol swallowed and bit the bullet. "Can I request a small extension? I swear on my mother's life that I'll get every cent of that money to you in one month's time."  
  
Seifer stared at him coldly. "And why should I do that?"  
  
Rudol fumbled for a reason. "Because… I'll pay up and give you all the money I owe you, and if you don't give me an extension, you'll only get $500 and my life?"  
  
Seifer didn't say anything, simply looked at him with cold, unfeeling blue-green eyes.  
  
"Fine," he said finally. "But only because I'm a nice guy." His hand lashed out and gripped Rudol's arm warningly. "You have until the end of next month. One month."  
  
"But—"  
  
"One month," Seifer repeated evenly, cutting him off with a sharp twist to his arm that made Rudol's eyes water. With that, he departed with his lackey behind him, leaving Rudol to wonder just what he got himself into.


	7. Chapter 7

"Fuck morning classes. Fuck morning work. Fuck everything in the morning that doesn't involve sleeping, sex, and bacon. In that order," Rudol grumbled, rubbing his sore shoulder. The past week had been beyond brutal, and today was no exception. He had just spent the better part of an hour following a finicky customer and lugging a 100 pound maple tree on a dolly so that she could compare it to every other tree in the whole goddamn nursery.  
  
"Actually, I think morning sex ranks above sleeping," Lumaria answered conversationally, standing on his tiptoes to carefully water a hanging basket of tiger lilies.  
  
"Well, I don't get much morning sex to begin with, so I don't have much of a comparison," Rudol said nonchalantly, scratching his chin. "I'm not the kind of guy who sticks around to wake up with someone in the morning. I'm the master of 'hit and quit it.'"  
  
"That's really not something to be proud of, you know."  
  
"Why not? I'm like a motherfucking Houdini!"  
  
"You're making progress on the money thing," Lumaria said, shaking his head, "but you still have a long way to go on the relationship thing."  
  
"Well, I'm not really into relationships in the first place..." Rudol said, casually leaning against the wall of the greenhouse.  
  
"So you say."  
  
"You sound skeptical."  
  
"I am."  
  
"Well, I can't really change your opinion, now can I?" Rudol said, quirking an eyebrow.  
  
"No, I don't suppose I can." Lumaria wiped his hands on his apron and beckoned for Rudol to follow him out of the stifling, suffocating greenhouse. He breathed in the fresh air and pulled his hair back into a ponytail. "Okay, Rudy, time to get down to work. Here's the plan. I need you to lug six bags of chicken manure down to Greenhouse 3 – and yes, I _know_ they stink horrifically, but someone has to do it," he added, hoping to head off any complaints before they arose. "Today's a delivery day, so once you're done with the manure, go talk to my uncle. He'll probably have you wheel out the racks of plants and possibly unpack the flats from the racks as well. There's also a new shipment of pottery coming in today, so you can get started on drilling drainage holes in those as well. And if you have time after that, you can come help me in Greenhouse 4. I'll be creating a new garden bed for display, so I could use your help in shoveling soil." He clapped his hands together. "Any questions?"  
  
Rudol raised his hand and waited to be called on. "I have a question. Does it still count as breakup sex if you do it four weeks after you broke up? I'm just wondering."  
  
"...Any questions that pertain to _what we are talking about?_ "  
  
"Oh. Well, you should have specified. No, I'm all set."  
  
"I really hope you were paying attention and weren't just thinking about sex the entire time I was talking."  
  
"What, no. Of course I was paying attention. You underestimate me, Lulu," Rudol replied, sounding mortally wounded.  
  
"Fine, prove it to me then. I'm not repeating everything I just said. And to answer your question," Lumaria said, turning to a display of flowers and rearranging them to look more appealing, "No, it's not breakup sex. Moron."  
  
"It was just a question!" he protested.  
  
"Why, do you want to get Dilan back?" Lumaria asked, pausing his work to place his hands on his hips and stare at him.  
  
"No, I just want someone who will fuck me like they mean it. I've been thinking about it, and I've come to the conclusion that the reason why I was feeling so depressed after that last string of hookups I had is because I haven't been able to find someone who can satisfy me sexually," he said matter-of-factly; it was a perfectly rational explanation to his mind. "And the sex with him was quite excellent."  
  
Lumaria stared at him.  
  
"...What?" he asked, genuinely clueless.  
  
"Is that really how you view people?" Lumaria asked, his voice sounding odd. "Like sex objects? He's a person too, you know, with feelings. And that's how you treat him? Rudy, don't you dare go back to him if you're just going to fuck him and leave him again – I thought you were better than that."  
  
"Well, jeez," Rudol said. "You make it sound like I'm some heartless bastard. I just want a relationship with no strings attached, is that so much to ask for?"  
  
"Yeah, if the other person actually wants something more than just sex, it is. You know he took it badly when you dumped him the first time. You had a history together. What makes you think he's so willing to just suspend all that to be your fuck buddy? I hate to say it, but it's kind of a douchebaggy thing to do." Lumaria shook his head and tucked a feathery lock of pink hair behind his ear.  
  
"Good lord, what is this, the Spanish inquisition?" Annoyed, Rudol crossed his arms and scowled. "It's not as big a deal as you and Rennie make it out to be. _Really._ "  
  
"You're acting like a dick again," Lumaria said bluntly, figuring that Rudol's ego could go down a notch or two.  
  
"Well, you are what you eat…" Rudol deadpanned, trying to break the tenseness of the atmosphere. It worked; Lumaria laughed in spite of himself, but it was more out of surprise than anything.  
  
The blond smiled, pleased that he managed to coax a laugh out of him but attempting to mask the fact that he was pained by his friend's harsh words. For all his bravado, he did care deeply about what L'Erena and Lumaria thought of him. He didn't give a damn about how anyone else viewed him (hell, he _had_ to not care, given that he'd developed a bit of a… _reputation_ for himself), but his two closest friends were too important to him to not value their opinions.  
  
"Okay, enough yakking," Lumaria said. "Let's get back to work. We can talk later."  
  
"Aye, aye, cap'n," Rudol said with a mock salute, heaving himself off of the table he'd been resting on and taking hold of the dolly once more. He set off to begin the vastly undesirable task of lugging chicken manure across the grounds, with Lumaria two steps behind him on his way to return the watering can and pick up a shovel.  
  
They crossed paths with two girls who were arguing over a potted plant. One of them pointed in their direction and said loudly, "Look, those guys work here — ask them!"  
  
Overhearing them, Rudol smoothed down his hair and smiled. "Hello, ladies…" he began, using his most suave voice.  
  
"Rudy, you don't know anything about plants," Lumaria interrupted from behind him, elbowing him out of the way. "Just get back to the manual labor and allow me to help these two lovely girls."  
  
Deflated, Rudol let out a sigh. It was going to be a long day.  
  
\------------------------  
  
Exhausted, grubby, and overworked, Rudol collapsed into Lumaria's car with a sense of relief. He didn't mind work, really, it was enjoyable as long as he was able to work with one of his closest friends, and it meant money, but he couldn't deny that it was starting to take its toll on him. He wasn't used to so much physical exertion for such long periods of time.  
  
Overcome by exhaustion, he stared off into space on the ride home, instinctively clutching to the door handle because Lumaria drove like a madman. He couldn't help but be troubled by what Lulu had to say about his philosophy on life. He had been so confident in his conclusion that the reason for his slump was because of lack of sexual satisfaction. But then Lumaria had to go and tear him up, telling him that it was somehow wrong to just want somebody because the sex was good. Wasn't that the perfect relationship? No emotional crap to deal with, no obligations, no need to be tied down to just one person—  
  
"Rudyyy…" Lumaria sang, waving a hand in front of his face. "You're spacing out again. Did you hear a word I just said?"  
  
Torn out of his daze, Rudol shoved Lumaria's hand away from him and hissed, "Are you completely mental? Hands. On. The. Wheel."  
  
"Man, you act like I'm completely irresponsible," Lumaria complained, but he obliged nonetheless.  
  
"Do you remember the pick-up incident?"  
  
"That was _one time_!"  
  
"Sure, Lulu, sure. Then why does Rennie not let you touch her truck anymore?"  
  
"So I lost a hubcap. Big deal, it could to happen to anyone. She's just touchy." He swiveled the steering wheel as he took a corner a little too hard. "But speaking of L'Erena, that's what I was talking about before you zoned out on me. Tonight's pizza night, remember? Rennie's place."  
  
"Ooh, right, I almost forgot about that," Rudol said, smacking his head. He was becoming forgetful too. He didn't deal well with stress, evidently. "Well, I'm game. As long as you can get us there without, you know, killing us or anything like that…"  
  
\------------------------  
  
"See, I told you we'd make it home alive," Lumaria said as the two of them knocked on L'Erena's door.  
  
"Well done," Rudol said dryly, applauding lightly.  
  
"It's open!" called a voice from inside the suite, and Lumaria opened the door and ushered Rudol inside.  
  
"Hey, guys," L'Erena said from her place at the kitchen table, looking up from the textbook she had propped up against the milk jug while she painted her nails. "Pizza's almost here." She inspected her left hand carefully and waved it in the air to dry her nails.  
  
"You're doing it wrong," Lumaria informed her as he pulled up a chair and sat down. "You're not supposed to wave your hand around like that. It makes the nails less shiny and can cause smudges."  
  
L'Erena rolled her eyes. " _I don't care,_ " she told him.  
  
"I'm just saying…" he replied with a delicate shrug of his shoulders.  
  
"Whatever. How was work, by the way?"  
  
"Wonderful," Lumaria chirped.  
  
"Miserable," Rudol said at the exact same moment, resting his hands on the table.  
  
"I don't know what you're complaining about," Lumaria said, propping his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his hand. "You didn't seem that miserable this morning."  
  
"That was before you called me a douchebag. And a dick. And before I just about killed myself slaving over work. My entire body is crying out with pain. _Pain_ , I say."  
  
"Oh, you'll get used to it as you build up more stamina and strength." Lumaria dismissed his complaint, his perfectly manicured hand waving it away. "And I'm sorry, but you needed to hear the truth."  
  
"Wait, wait, what did I miss?" L'Erena said, setting down the bottle of electric blue nail polish and looking curiously at the two boys.  
  
"Nothin—"  
  
"Rudy was being an ass again, going on about how he doesn't 'do' relationships and just wants someone who will, and I quote, 'fuck him like he means it.' Basically, he wants a fuck buddy with no strings attached and doesn't care about the other person's feelings."  
  
" _You're_ an ass," Rudol grumbled, shooting Lumaria a dirty look.  
  
L'Erena scrutinized him critically before sighing and sitting back in her chair. "Rudy," she said, as gently as she knew how. "I love you, you know that. I just don't understand you sometimes."  
  
Rudol buried his head in his hands, weary of the same tired argument. After a long moment, he emerged with a pained expression on his face. "I don't know. Just... just give me some time, Rennie. My head's all messed up lately. I need some time to sort things out. I can do this. I just can't do it alone. I need my best friends. Please, help me out here, support me, and the rest is gonna fall in place once I figure out what the hell is wrong with me." His voice broke a little on the last syllable. He had always been the kind of guy who knew what he wanted right from the get-go. He was easy-going, took things as they come, didn't worry about whatever curveballs life decided to throw him.  
  
He'd never experienced the self-doubt and agony that so often came with the awkward teenage years, and here he was, just breaking twenty and going through the kind of personal crisis he'd never had to endure before. The past few weeks had shook him to his core for reasons he still couldn't comprehend, and he found himself questioning everything about himself, his very philosophy on life, and it was frightening.  
  
"Oh, Rudy…" L'Erena said, getting up from her chair to rub his back soothingly with her still unpainted left hand. "It's okay. We're here for you, you know that, right?"  
  
"Yeah," he said after a minute's silence, lifting his head up again and giving her a wan smile. "I know. Thank you."  
  
"I just don't want you to regret things later down the line, that's all," Lumaria explained. "Being bad isn't always good. I don't want you to make any more mistakes. I know you think you're invincible, but you're just going to end up hurting yourself… Rudy, are you listening to me?"  
  
But Rudol had stopped paying attention, laying his head on the table and closing his eyes. "I'm… tired."  
  
\------------------------  
  
Dilan wasn't sure what made him turn. Perhaps it was the fact that he still wasn't completely over Rudol, or maybe it was just because it occurred to him that his ex was no longer making wisecracks when the professor asked questions, but whatever the reason, he spontaneously glanced over his shoulder one day in class.  
  
The blond in question was sound asleep at the back of the classroom, head resting on his book and his hand dangling over the side of his desk. From what little that he'd seen of him lately (because, even if he knew that it was all over, he couldn't help but steal glances at him and keep an eye out for the for the familiar blond head on the streets), Rudol _had_ been looking worn-out lately, complete with dark under-eye circles and incessant yawns.  
  
 _Probably up all night fucking some stranger,_ Dilan thought bitterly, viciously scratching out a mistake in his notes and accidentally tearing a hole in his paper.  
  
"Dude, what's up?" Braig muttered, casting him a sidelong glance.  
  
"Nothing," he mumbled back, shrugging it off and turning to a new page of paper. Thankfully, he didn't have to suffer for too much longer; barely ten minutes passed before the professor announced that they had run out of time and would resume the lecture on Monday.  
  
In the hustle and bustle of departure as 100 students simultaneously stood up and gathered their materials, Dilan couldn't resist one last surreptitious glance. Rudol had woken up with a start at the sudden increase in activity, looking around him in sleepy-eyed confusion. Dilan could see the realization dawning on him that he had evidently slept through the entirety of the lecture, and he watched as Rudol ground the heels of his palms into his eyes in visible frustration.  
  
 _Serves him right,_ he thought in satisfaction. _Asshole._ With that rewarding thought, he left and headed for home, where he knew that he had Ienzo to look forward to. Life just kept getting better and better.  
  
\------------------------  
  
If he had dared to hope that Ienzo would not be present when he arrived home, Dilan would have been sadly mistaken. Fortunately, he hadn't gotten his hopes up.  
  
He walked through the door to find Ienzo curled up next to Aeleus on the couch, rattling off his list of things to do over the next few weeks. Dilan heaved a sigh. He lifted his hand in greeting to Aeleus and made a beeline for the kitchen, where he proceeded to rummage around in the cabinets for something edible to eat.  
  
"—and oh, that reminds me! Aeleus?"  
  
"Mmm?" Aeleus looked down at his boyfriend, who was tucked into his side.  
  
"You recall that the upcoming Flaming Oceans concert you promised to take me to is on the sixteenth, correct?"  
  
"…Yes."  
  
"Well," Ienzo continued, "I was wondering if you could perhaps do me a very small favor and discuss with your friend Braig the possibility of, ah, meeting his boyfriend afterwards?" His tone was light, but his words left no room for disagreement.  
  
Aeleus seemed to be contemplating his response very carefully. "What if I don't want to do you a favor?" he finally asked, sounding somewhat belligerent.  
  
Dilan perked up, suddenly interested. He could smell an impending argument, as the tension in the air was evident. Evident, that is, to everyone but Ienzo, who may have been exceedingly intelligent but still lacked effective social-reading skills.  
  
"In that case, I suppose we would have to remind ourselves just who calls the shots in this relationship," Ienzo answered, quirking an eyebrow in mild intrigue. He wasn't used to resistance from Aeleus.  
  
Dilan chuckled quietly in the kitchen, grabbing a bag of chips that he found buried at the back of the cupboard and grabbing a case of beer from the fridge. _Oh, this is gonna be good._  
  
"I," Aeleus said, pulling away from Ienzo and standing up from the couch, "am really fucking sick of this shit."  
  
"I don't appreciate your coarseness, Aeleus," Ienzo said calmly. "Now would you care to explain what has you so suddenly and inexplicably upset, because I am flummoxed, quite frankly."  
  
"You are the only person on the planet who would ever use the word 'flummoxed' in casual conversation. And I'm really beginning to understand why he—" Aeleus pointed a finger in Dilan's direction "—finds you so annoying."  
  
"Hey, man, leave me out of this," Dilan said, alarmed, pausing mid-crunch.  
  
Ienzo barely spared a glance his way, his piercing eyes intently fixed on Aeleus. "Aeleus. What is wrong with you today?" He frowned, his brow creasing.  
  
"Me? Nothing's wrong with _me._ I'm just fed up with your obsession with this guy you've never met before."  
  
"Oh, please," Ienzo scoffed, but his ears flushed pink nonetheless. "Not this again. Did we not already discuss this?"  
  
"Yeah, and nothing's changed! You're still being a goddamn annoying _fangirl_ , and I've been trying so fucking hard to let it go—"  
  
"Really? Now _tell_ me, Aeleus… how is that working out for you?" Ienzo interrupted, his voice caustic. "Because it seems to me like you are having some underlying issues that go beyond simply not approving of me admiring a musician. Honestly, I thought _I_ was PMSing!"  
  
Dilan snorted in laughter and accidentally choked on his beer, causing him to cough violently. Neither Aeleus nor Ienzo noticed or cared, too wrapped up in their altercation to pay any attention to the third inhabitant of the room.  
  
"Y'know what? You're an ass. Stop being an ass, you…" Aeleus struggled to come up with the words and ended lamely, "Ass!"  
  
"You know, sometimes your brain is amazingly eloquent. I mean, really, it's astounding!" Ienzo said loftily, examining his cuticles in a display of utter disinterest.  
  
"Ienzoooo," Aeleus growled in exasperation.  
  
"Yes, Aeleus?"  
  
"If Myde ever met you, he'd be totally turned off by you because you're an annoying bitch who doesn't know how to shut up. But guess what? You're not going to meet him. Because there's no way in hell I'm asking Braig to set you up with him. You're supposed to be _my_ boyfriend, not the imaginary boyfriend of some mullet-headed idiot who can't sing for shit!"  
  
The look of loathing he received was tantamount to Ienzo's disdain for him. "I pity you," he said, words dripping with disgust.  
  
"No, Ie, _I_ pity _you_ , because you're just a sad, sad girl who's in love with some washed-up singer and can't appreciate the boyfriend she already has—"  
  
Something inside Ienzo snapped. He seized his psychology textbook that was resting unawares on the couch and threw it at the other's head. Aeleus, who seemed to realize that he'd gone too far, reflexively ducked. Truth be told, he didn't need to bother; Ienzo's aim was very poor and the book missed him by at least two feet.  
  
"I," Ienzo began, ice-cold eyes glaring at him through the fringe of his hair, "am sick of being called a girl. I am sick of your obnoxious, repulsive, irrational behavior. And I don't care what you say, I'm going to meet Myde if it's the last thing I do!" he snarled, all traces of his cool composure extinguished. He pivoted on his heel and headed for the door, thoroughly fed up with the conversation.  
  
"Yeah, well, it _will_ be the last thing you ever do with me!" Aeleus called after Ienzo's retreating back, which stiffened noticeably.  
  
Ienzo looked over his shoulder and opened his mouth, expecting a fully-formed witty retort to spring out. He looked taken-aback as he realized that no words came to him, and he snapped his mouth shut. Instead, he sniffed haughtily and left the room in as dignified a manner as he could muster, slamming the door behind him in a rare display of childish behavior.  
  
Aeleus scowled sullenly at the door for a full minute before turning around to face Dilan, who looked as though Christmas had come early. "Was that a dick move I pulled?"  
  
"Probably," Dilan conceded, but he didn't appear upset in the slightest. "Can't say I mind though. Beer?" He offered up the last bottle in their 24-pack.  
  
"No," Aeleus said shortly.  
  
"Your loss." He shrugged and took another swig of his own beer. "But hey, man, think of it this way," he said, clapping Aeleus on the shoulder. "By ending it with him, you're getting rid of an annoying, blood-sucking leech!" Come to think of it, he was feeling much cheerier after the row between Aeleus and Ienzo. At least he wasn't the only one with a miserable love life at the moment.  
  
"I changed my mind," Aeleus said abruptly. "Pass me a beer."  
  
"Too bad, you had your chance. I'm keeping the last one for myself." He held the beer just out of reach.  
  
"…What?"  
  
"Slow today, huh?" Dilan smirked; ragging on Aeleus was too good of an opportunity to pass up. "I said, no."  
  
"Dude, come on!"  
  
"Don't 'come on' me, I said no!"  
  
"…Did you just say what I think you said?"  
  
There was a pregnant pause as Dilan digested his words.  
  
"This doesn't leave this room. Ever." He handed Aeleus the beer bottle.  
  
"Agreed."  
  
They drank their beers in silence.


	8. Chapter 8

"Hey, Ae, have you seen my—" Dilan cut himself off mid-sentence when he emerged from the bedroom to find his roommate slumped over at the kitchen table, cradling a bottle of beer in the crook of his arm.  
  
"Dude. It's 9:30 A.M. Are you seriously drinking? Put the bottle down."  
  
"Don't wanna," Aeleus mumbled, nursing his beer almost tenderly.  
  
"Oh, would you get a fucking _grip?_ " Dilan pulled out a chair and straddled it. "Okay, I thought that maybe you finally ditching the geek would be good for you. I wouldn't have to deal with all his girly, psycho, control-freak crap, you could finally man up, and it'd be like old times. But no, you'd rather piss and moan, 'Oh, poor me, I finally dumped my girlfriend and it sucks because I'm still a total pussy!'"  
  
"Shut your fucking face," Aeleus growled, glowering at him from over the bottle.  
  
"Hell no, I won't. You've gotta hear the truth from somebody, and only your bro would give it to you."  
  
"Oh yeah? Well, either tell me what the truth is or go the hell away. I don't want to look at your face."  
  
"Gonna ignore that one. Okay, yeah, so are you blind or just plain stupid? Look, even _I_ can tell that you're crazy about him. You're miserable without him. Just grow a pair and call him already. I mean, my _cat_ has more balls than you, and he's neutered!"  
  
"Fuck you. And I'm not gonna be the one to call him. If he wants us to be back together instead of chasing after mullet-boy he can be the one to do the calling. I don't have anything to apologize for."  
  
"Yeah, well, we all know he's not going to be the bigger man. Cause, you know, he's not one. Man up, bro."  
  
"I hate my life," Aeleus said sullenly, not even listening anymore. He stared intently at his now-empty bottle as if he could intimidate the inanimate object into refilling.  
  
"I hate your life too," Dilan replied brightly, getting up from his chair. He slung his bag over his shoulder and pulled on his Sigma Chi baseball cap. "I'm heading to class, don't wait up."  
  
Aeleus mumbled something indistinct in reply. Dilan shook his head in disbelief as he shut the front door behind him and headed down the stairs. Pitiful.  
  
\------------------------  
  
Upon arriving to class, the first thing Dilan noticed was that apparently the professor was late; the door to the classroom was locked and the hall was swarming with students. He muscled his way through the crowd and found Braig leaning against the wall closest to the door and looking supremely bored. That is, until he noticed Dilan's arrival and accosted him.  
  
Dilan was putting up with Braig's rambling about some song he heard on the radio when he happened to look over Braig's shoulder and did a double-take. Rudol was lurking at the far end of the hall, hunched in a corner and unmistakably glowering at the back of Braig's head. It was perhaps the one and only time he'd ever seen Rudol _not_ being in the thick of things — the blond thrived off of attention and would ordinarily be hamming it up for the crowd. Today, however, he was subdued and distant, keeping his arms folded tight over his chest and skulking in the background.  
  
It kind of pissed him off, honestly. Irked, Dilan had to wonder what the hell _his_ problem was. He was living the high life, partying, drinking, fucking, never doing a single day's worth of work in his life — he had nothing to brood about. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if this was all just some act on Rudol's part. He wouldn't put it past him to play the sympathy card to pick up chicks. God knows he could definitely be a manipulative little son of a —  
  
"I can't remember who sings it though," Braig continued, and Dilan remembered that he was in the middle of a conversation. "You know the one I'm talking about though, right? You know, girly song, cheesy lyrics…"  
  
"I have no idea what you're talking about, dude," Dilan said bluntly, tearing his eyes away from Rudol, who apparently didn't even notice him staring back. "How does it go?"  
  
He realized as soon as the words left his lips that that was not the best of suggestions, but by then it was too late. Braig cleared his throat and, during a perfectly-timed lull in the chatter of the hallway (goddammit, why did that _always happen_ at the most inappropriate moments?), sang in a high-pitched voice, "Will you marry me?"  
  
An awkward silence ensued as heads swiveled to stare at the two of them. There were a few appreciative laughs and catcalls, but most people remained silent or whispered amongst themselves with pointed stares. Before Braig had a chance to continue to embarrass him, Dilan reflexively thrust an open palm into Braig's face and slammed his head against the wall. Braig laughed hysterically until Dilan finally let him go, shooting him a look of disgust as the hallway began to bustle with activity once more.  
  
"Dude, overreact much?" Braig said gleefully, slinging an arm around his neck and steering him away from the door. The tardy professor excused himself, pushing his way through the remaining stragglers and unlocked the classroom door, letting the streams of students flow into the lecture hall. "That was hilarious!"  
  
"Don't. Touch. Me."  
  
\------------------------  
  
"I am going to _kill_ that little shit," Dilan announced an hour and a half later, when he flung open the door to the apartment.  
  
"Whatever," came Aeleus's voice, flat and uninterested. "I don't care. I'm sleeping."  
  
Dilan peered over the back of the couch to find Aeleus stretched out, his arms folded behind his head and his eyes closed. "No you're not. If you were, you wouldn't be talking to me."  
  
"Yeah, because _you_ woke me up." He opened one eye and glared up at Dilan.  
  
Dilan snorted. "Come on, since when were you such a light sleeper, princess? Oh, right, since you broke up with Ienzo. You talk to him yet, by the way?"  
  
"No," Aeleus answered belligerently, shutting his eyes again. "And I already told you, I'm not going to."  
  
Dilan rolled his eyes. He was considering picking on him for not making the first move when his phone vibrated, and he let the subject drop. "Look, bro, I'm gonna head to the gym," he said after skimming the received text message. "Dunno what time I'll be back, but I'll catch you later." He dumped his backpack onto the kitchen counter and grabbed his gym bag from the floor he had tossed it after working out the other day.  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Aeleus mumbled, clearly trying to go back to sleep. "Lock the door behind you, wouldya?"  
  
"Yup. See ya later."  
  
Aeleus lay there with his eyes closed and listened as Dilan shut the door behind him. When he heard the clunking noise of the key turning in the lock, he sighed and made himself more comfortable on the couch, folding his arms over his chest. He hated to think about how miserable he was without Ienzo around, but he knew deep down that it was true. He couldn't help but feel angry and resentful, two sentiments that had not abated since their heated argument, but at the same time, he missed him.  
  
He was dimly aware of faint shuffling noises in the background and the occasional creak of floorboards but didn't think anything of it; the walls of the apartment were thin, and it wasn't uncommon to be able to hear the people on the floor above them moving around. It wasn't until he felt a warm, familiar weight settle on top of him that his eyes flew open and he reacted.  
  
"Ienzo!" he all but sputtered upon seeing the slight boy sitting neatly on top of him. "What the fuck are you doing here?"  
  
"It's nice to see you too, Aeleus," he replied with the lighthearted air of someone commenting on the weather.  
  
"Dude, what the— how the fuck did you get in here? The door's locked!"  
  
"I have my ways," he said evasively. "And you know I do not like it when you call me 'dude,' so I suggest that we nip this in the bud, so to speak. I am here because I wish to speak to you. You see, it has come to my attention that there are some severe kinks in our relationship as of late, and I wish to resolve them."  
  
He took Aeleus's gaping astonishment as a cue to continue. Ienzo folded his hands and rested his chin on them, peering down at Aeleus with the look of a psychologist analyzing his client. "First of all, I recommend that you remain quiet while I am speaking. Now, I've put up with your increasingly irrational behavior for the past few weeks, but I have to say that by this point, it is getting to be quite tiresome."  
  
"Wha— _me_?" Aeleus spluttered, regaining usage of his vocal cords. "You're the one who's acting all irrational and fangirly, and it's pissing me—"  
  
"If you would let me finish," Ienzo cut in, lifting a hand to silence him. "I know where you keep your duct tape and I am not afraid to use it, Aeleus. I am being completely and utterly serious here."  
  
"I don't doubt that you are," he muttered under his breath.  
  
"Excuse me, did I give you permission to speak?"  
  
Aeleus lifted an incredulous brow as if to say, "Really, now?"  
  
"Thank you," Ienzo replied with evident satisfaction, smoothing back Aeleus's hair. "Now, here's what we're going to do. You are going to sit here and listen to me. You are not to say anything until I am done speaking. You are not to _do_ anything unless I give you my express permission. No questions asked."  
  
Aeleus laughed out loud in sheer disbelief. "I don't have time for this," he said, lifting his hands in the air and shifting his weight so that he could push Ienzo off of him and stand up.  
  
"I'm not so sure you want to do that," Ienzo said, his voice silky smooth and unperturbed.  
  
"Oh?" Aeleus asked, arching an eyebrow. "And why's that?"  
  
"Because, you see, I happen to have the cord to your precious X-box within reach, and I will not hesitate to pull it off the table if you refuse to cooperate with me. And you don't want that, do you? What's more, I don't think your _bro_ would be too pleased if he came home to find it smashed to pieces on the floor."  
  
Aeleus did a double take, realizing that Ienzo had thought this all out. He glanced to where the X-box rested on the table by the TV and followed the path of the cord, unplugged from the TV, to where it rested on the arm of the couch.  
  
"You wouldn't dare."  
  
"I assure you I am quite capable of doing such a thing, Aeleus."  
  
He switched tactics. "Ienzo. Get off of me and get out. Dilan could be home any minute now, and he's not gonna let you live it down if he sees you like this."  
  
"I fail to be threatened by your inadequate attempts at intimidating me in letting you off the hook. You forget that I know you too well, Aeleus. No, Dilan will not be back any time soon. I have made quite sure of that. In fact, he happens to be the one who let me in and locked the door behind me. Now, do as I say, and _be quiet._ If you speak out of turn once more, I will not hesitate to punish you."  
  
Temporarily stunned into silence, Aeleus was torn between working out the logistics of Ienzo and Dilan actually being in cahoots together, and finding out just what Ienzo had in mind for punishment by testing his limits and speaking up again. He was strangely turned on by Ienzo's aggressiveness, he had to admit, however grudgingly. He settled for not saying anything at all and simply staring him down.  
  
"Now, as I was _saying_... It seems that there are some underlying issues to your sudden violent explosions of rage."  
  
"Damn straight there are, and don't play dumb with me. You know what they are."  
  
"I am beginning to think that you were dropped on your head as a baby, because you clearly do not comprehend the meaning of the words 'do not speak until I am finished talking.'"  
  
"Well, guess what? Maybe I don't want to be silent!"  
  
Ienzo closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, mentally counting to ten. He opened them and, with forced calmness, said, "I am doing my absolute best to be diplomatic here, Aeleus. I'm here because I'm trying to make it better, and I would have thought you'd be at least a little more cooperative in attempting to make amends."  
  
"You can't just waltz in here and take me hostage in my own apartment and just magically expect that'll make everything okay, Ienzo. Cause it's not. It's not okay."  
  
"Well, at least I'm trying!" he snapped back, eyes flashing dangerously. "Unlike you, I haven't holed myself away in my room, drinking myself half to death. You haven't been answering my calls, you've been skipping our philosophy class, you've been avoiding me entirely. So I have to do the unthinkable and actually fraternize with your idiotic roommate—"  
  
"Hey!" Aeleus interrupted, glaring at Ienzo. "Don't call him an idiot."  
  
"Please," Ienzo said dismissively. "He doesn't know the difference between Jack Kerouac and Jack Daniels. He thought swans were fictional like unicorns until, like, six months ago. Of course he's an idiot. The point is that now when I finally manage to get a hold of you, you won't even listen to me!"  
  
"Well, maybe _you_ need to listen to _me_! God, you always do this. Whenever you try to make things better, you always make them worse."  
  
"I make them worse? _I_ make them worse? Excuse me, but _I_ —"  
  
" _You_ are trying to psychoanalyze me like you always do and make this all out to be my fault. And it's not, it's yours!"  
  
"Excuse me, but what is your problem?" Ienzo snapped, closing his eyes and throwing his hands up in the air in sheer frustration. "Could you kindly explain that to me in civil terms, because I am still completely at a loss as to what _I_ did wrong. Is this honestly all about you and your unwarranted jealousy over an entirely imaginary 'relationship' between me and Myde, whom, by the way, _I have never met?_ "  
  
"Yeah! Yeah, maybe it is, because you're clearly in love with this dude and act all girlishly whenever he's mentioned and--"  
  
Ienzo's voice escalated as he attempted to override Aeleus. He may have been small and rather effeminate, but he could be aggressive when he wanted to be.  
  
"When will you get it through your thick, Neanderthal skull that _you_ are the only man in the world whom I have romantic feelings for?" he shouted, roughly gripping Aeleus by the shoulders and leaning over him, his face now hovering mere inches from Aeleus's. Aeleus abruptly backed off, threatened by Ienzo's invasion into his personal space.  
  
Before he could lose his steam, Ienzo continued, but his words were less harsh now. "I don't love easily, Aeleus, you know that. And an infatuation with a celebrity whom I admire doesn't even compare to the way I feel for you. It's not love, it's not the same thing as I feel when I see you. I only want you, and you alone."  
  
"Yeah?" Aeleus grunted, his voice gruff. "Prove it." He was still feeling bitter and cynical, but most of the rage had dissipated with the shock of Ienzo's violent reaction, which had shaken some sense into him.  
  
"Prove it?" Ienzo repeated.  
  
"Yeah," Aeleus replied, maintaining eye contact. "Prove that you're not jerking me around. Prove that you really do care for me like you say you do. Prove that you're not gonna drop me like a hot potato for— for someone else."  
  
Ienzo sighed delicately and brushed his hair out of his face once more. "Despite the fact that you can be a meatheaded, belligerent ass at times, I have missed you, you know. Believe me, that was the only reason I even considered collaborating with Dilan. And from what he had to say, it seems like I'm not the only one lost without you around. So, fine." He sat back on his heels and pulled his shirt over his head in one fluid motion, dropping it to the floor. "Whatever it takes."  
  
Aeleus attempted to say something coherent, but the words dissolved on his tongue as Ienzo leaned down to kiss him, and he was strongly reminded of one of the things he missed the most during their separation.  
  
Ienzo was a far from passive lover; he was demanding and unable to keep his hands to himself and a very forceful kisser. However, he was also rather self-centered and would deny or accept Aeleus's advances as they came, and Aeleus would yield to his wishes (which is probably why Dilan took great pleasure in informing him that he was "whipped" at every available opportunity), but Ienzo was making a conscious effort here to make sure that Aeleus's needs were met first.  
  
Aeleus tried to move his hands to Ienzo's waist, but the smaller boy gently pushed them away, pinning them over his head and admonishing him, "Oh, no you don't. I'm proving a point, remember?"  
  
He couldn't help but grin foolishly. "Oh yeah?"  
  
"Oh yes," Ienzo said firmly, cool fingers already slipping underneath his shirt and sliding up the length of his torso. "For once, it's not about me — and yes, I do have the grace to admit that it usually is, thank you. This is all about you. I'm making it about you."  
  
"Are you an angel?" Aeleus asked, his brain suddenly foggy. He meant for it to come off as witty but only ended up sounding stupid, if the look on Ienzo's face was anything to go by. Ienzo stared at him expressionlessly for several long moments before deciding that he wasn't going to dignify him with a response. Aeleus decided to shut up and just enjoy it. Words weren't his strong point anyway, and the way Ienzo was trailing kisses down his jaw rendered him incapable of producing anything intelligent to begin with. He couldn't help but let out a small groan as one hand made its way down to his groin, massaging him through the thick fabric of his jeans while the other hand teasingly traced the outline of his nipple, and _fuck_ , that felt good—  
  
Ienzo reared back so suddenly that Aeleus let out a small, disappointed noise. Ienzo shot him an amused look.  
  
"Relax," he said, placing a finger on Aeleus's lips. "I'm just ridding myself of this pesky excess clothing. And don't look at me like that," he added, rolling his eyes at the shift in Aeleus's expression from pouty to lewd at the prospect of Ienzo stripping for him.  
  
Ienzo shook his head in mild exasperation, fingers working at the fly of his jeans and shimmying them down his hips. There was a downside to wearing skinny jeans, he found: despite the fact that they clung to his body in all the right places and accentuated his slim frame, they were impossible to slip off effortlessly. When he finally succeeded, he shook them out, folded them neatly, and draped them over the top of the couch so that they wouldn't become wrinkled.  
  
Mercifully, Aeleus didn't comment on this display of fastidiousness, for he was too occupied with staring at Ienzo's underwear to notice. It wasn't uncommon for Ienzo to wear rather, ah, feminine underwear (he maintained that it was only because he hated the feel of boxers and preferred a more comfortable and fashionable alternative. Aeleus genuinely didn't care; he found it quite sexy, to be honest) but this pair caught his eye for some reason. Ienzo was sporting a pair of low-rise, red and white bikini briefs with a #5 emblazoned on the crotch.  
  
"Hey..." Aeleus said slowly. "That's my jersey number..."  
  
"A very astute observation, Sherlock. I'm so glad you've been paying attention," he said dryly, but a slight, catlike grin tugged at the corners of his lips. "Why?" The smirk widened as he innocuously reached down to cup himself. "Do you like them?"  
  
Aeleus was suddenly glad that he was wearing especially loose jeans today, because otherwise his pants would be _uncomfortably_ tight down there. "Yes. Yes I do. But I think they'd look even better on the floor."  
  
"Tch. Patience, Aeleus, patience." He eyed Aeleus critically. "As much as I enjoy being eye candy for you, I can't help but think that there is something drastically wrong with this situation. For instance, why are you still clothed? I do believe this needs to remedied first."  
  
His hands slid up Aeleus's shirt, tugging it over his head swiftly and exposing his physique. Ienzo took a moment to admire him before leaning down to suckle on his collarbone, making his way down the length of his torso. He paused when his lips brushed against the soft hair of Aeleus's treasure trail and pulled back just far enough to undo Aeleus's belt and fly. His nimble fingers made quick work of the belt buckle, and he soon yanked down his pants, boxers and all.  
  
At some point between shedding the remainder of his clothes and removing Aeleus's pants, Ienzo must have forgotten his previously instated rule about Aeleus not being allowed to touch him, for he didn't protest when the larger man's hands settled comfortably on his waist. Aeleus hooked his thumbs beneath the waistband of his underwear and tugged slightly, a subtle reminder to Ienzo.  
  
"What did I tell you about being hasty, Aeleus?" Ienzo chided, but he placed his own hands over Aeleus's and guided them down, slipping the bikini briefs off and discarding them on the floor, where they joined the heap of clothes.  
  
"Shut up and kiss me again," Aeleus replied, pulling him into his arms.  
  
Ienzo was all too happy to oblige, placing both hands on either side of Aeleus's face to deepen the kiss. He slid his leg up the side of Aeleus's body, rubbing seductively against him.  
  
Aeleus felt as though he'd been struck by a bolt of lightning, every hair on his body standing up in anticipation and his mind buzzing for more.  
  
When Ienzo pulled back to catch his breath, his chest heaving slightly as he sat up straight once more, all Aeleus could think was that he was the luckiest man alive to have Ienzo for his own. He reached up to brush the side of his face with one hand.  
  
Ienzo caught his hand and held it between his palms, smiling down at him. His carefully styled hair was mussed up, startlingly blue eyes peeked through disheveled bangs, and his usually pale skin was tinged pink from the heat of the moment. Aeleus was sure that if Ienzo caught sight of himself in the mirror, he would be aghast and attempt to neaten himself up, but he personally thought he'd never looked more desirable.   
  
Ienzo had always been the controlling one in the relationship. And Aeleus was perfectly content to do whatever was asked of him, whether it was carrying Ienzo's bags when he was on a shopping mission, or skipping out on his bro to go out on a date with Ienzo despite Dilan's protests, or even yielding to Ienzo's requests to simply cuddle when he would prefer to be screwing his brains out instead. Now, however, he couldn't hold back. He wanted to go further than anything Ienzo had planned.  
  
"Ienzo," he said suddenly, urgently. "Do you have any, like, lotion with you?"  
  
"Of course I do. It's what helps keep my complexion so perfect and porcelain, you know."  
  
But Aeleus wasn't listening anymore, too preoccupied with stretching out his arm to try and reach Ienzo's bag on the floor. His grasping fingers closed around the strap of what Dilan liked to call a man-purse and Ienzo referred to as a satchel, and he pulled it up onto the couch.  
  
"Aeleus, what are you doing? This is hardly a time to be worrying about chapped hands," Ienzo said, his brow furrowed in perplexity as he watched Aeleus dig around in his bag.  
  
"I don't want it for my hands," Aeleus replied, unceremoniously shoving aside half the contents of Ienzo's bag in search of the elusive lotion.  
  
"Well then, what — oh." Ienzo's eyes widened slightly as he realized just what Aeleus was suggesting. " _Oh._ "  
  
"Found it!" He triumphantly pulled out the small bottle of lotion.  
  
"Aeleus, are you quite sure about this?" Ienzo asked, seeming somewhat apprehensive.  
  
"Yes," he said, looking directly into Ienzo's eyes. " _Please_ , Ie. I'm sick of taking cold showers after every time we fool around. And even though we fight and you can be a bitch and I can be an asshole, I still love you. I want to be with you. I want to be a part of you."  
  
The corner of Ienzo's mouth twitched. "Oh, all right. I love you too, you great oaf. And if this is what it takes to make you see that I only feel this way about you and you alone…" He scooted further up Aeleus's body to reach his lips and kiss him. "…then I'm willing."  
  
"Mmm, you're the best…" Aeleus mumbled into Ienzo's mouth, grinning up at him when he pulled away.  
  
"Yes, yes, I know I am." Ienzo plucked the bottle of lotion out of his hands and busied himself with pouring a generous dollop into his palm. "First, give me your hands." He extended an expectant hand, snapping his fingers brusquely when Aeleus stared at it as if it were an alien. "They really are chapped. You know, you really ought to invest in a proper skin care program."  
  
"I'll keep that in mind," Aeleus replied, sniffing his newly lotioned hands in sheer bemusement. "Is this… vanilla?"  
  
"You should," Ienzo commented, squirting some more lotion into his hand and snapping the bottle shut. "And yes, it is vanilla. It's one of my trigger scents."  
  
"I have _no_ idea what that means," Aeleus replied.  
  
Ienzo let out a tsk of disapproval. "Well, then let me put in terms that your simple little brain can understand. It _gets me off._ " He smirked, and Aeleus should have realized what he was about to do next, but nothing could have prepared him for the sensation of Ienzo's fingers closing around him. His small hands worked down his length, slathering on the lotion, slender fingers teasing at the tip of his head.  
  
"God, Ie, you—" Aeleus gasped.  
  
"—are amazing. I know, I know." He smiled smugly, and Aeleus couldn't help but laugh.  
  
"Don't let anyone tell you that you aren't modest, Ie," he teased, wrapping his arms around Ienzo and sitting up slightly.  
  
"I'll be the first to admit that it isn't one of my redeeming points. Now, if you're going to make love to me, I suggest you do it now."  
  
"Well, someone's impatient," Aeleus said, grinning cockily.  
  
"Just nervous," he admitted.  
  
His grin faltered a little bit. "Ie, you don't have to do this if you don't want to," he said. "It's not like I'm going to force you."  
  
"Of course I want it," Ienzo scoffed with a toss of his head, flipping his hair back. "Take a look at my erection if you don't believe me."  
  
"Don't mind if I do."  
  
"My eyes are up here," Ienzo reminded, tilting his chin upwards to meet his gaze. "Yes, I want it. I will admit that I'm slightly nervous given that this is my first time at all, for I'm not as _sexually experienced_ as you—"  
  
Aeleus rolled his eyes. "Ie, come on…"  
  
"—But I trust you and am willing to give up my virginity for you."  
  
"Well, jeez, not like there's no pressure on me to not fuck this up now," Aeleus mumbled under his breath.  
  
So," he concluded, "I'm yours." Sensing that Aeleus was feeling some performance anxiety, he placed a reassuring kiss on his forehead. "Oh, please, we didn't get this far for you to back out now. Maybe I should have just kept my mouth shut," he contemplated.  
  
"Aw, no… isn't a healthy relationship about communication?" Aeleus said desperately.  
  
"Surprisingly wise words coming from your mouth there. I'm glad you're learning. Now," he said, settling himself further into Aeleus's lap and smiling coyly. "Are you going to make the first move, or do I have to help you?" He gripped Aeleus by the base of his cock, guiding him to his entrance.  
  
Aeleus took a deep breath and concentrated on making the entry as painless as possible for Ienzo. It wasn't like him to be nervous when it came to sex, but then again, Ienzo was special to him, and causing pain to him probably hurt him more than it hurt Ienzo.  
  
A gasp escaped Ienzo's lips as Aeleus pushed a little further into him. Aeleus quickly looked up at him, concern etched on his face. "I'm not hurting you, am I?"  
  
Ienzo shook his head and managed, "No, of course not. It feels good."  
  
Unconvinced, Aeleus pressed him further, "Are you sure? I can stop if you want…"  
  
Ienzo smiled at him and kissed the tip of his nose. "Honestly, stop worrying about me. I'm not made of china, as much as you treat me like I am. I'm _fine_ , Aeleus. Just keep it slow and easy like this."  
  
Still, Aeleus couldn't help but berate himself internally, convinced that he'd fucked up, that he'd rushed Ienzo into doing something he wasn't ready to do…  
  
Ienzo seemed to realize what he was thinking, because he lifted Aeleus's chin and said firmly, "Aeleus. If I didn't like it, trust me, you'd know. To borrow a line from Dilan, stop being a pansy and man up."  
  
"…What."  
  
"I know, I can't believe I said it either." Ienzo made a face. "I fear that my brain has been tainted from spending too much time around you baboons. I feel the sudden and inexplicable need to wash my mouth out with soap as well."  
  
"Did. Did you just tell me to man up?"  
  
"Yes, I believe we have established that. My god, you are slow on the uptake. Still, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. After all, you used to think that artichokes were animals because you could buy their hearts at the grocery store."  
  
"I thought they were like antelopes!" Aeleus protested. "Wait, why the fuck are we talking about this? How did we go from me fucki—"  
  
"'Making love,' if you would, please. I don't approve of that word."  
  
"Fine, me _making love_ to you to talking about artichokes?"  
  
"I was attempting to relax the both of us," he replied matter-of-factly. "And from the look of things, it seems to have worked."  
  
Come to think of it, Ienzo did seem considerably more relaxed and receptive to him. A slow smile spread across his face as he pushed his hips forward. "You're just a little genius, aren't you? You know exactly what you're doing."  
  
"It's why you love me," Ienzo replied in satisfaction, draping his arms around his neck and nuzzling his nose against Aeleus's.  
  
"S'true." He grinned and leaned in to kiss Ienzo, burying himself to the hilt and causing Ienzo to yelp involuntarily.  
  
The smaller boy broke the kiss to hide his head in Aeleus's shoulder, and Aeleus was afraid that he'd broken him. "Ienzo?" he asked tentatively. "Are you okay?"  
  
Ienzo raised his eyes to meet his and all but snarled, "Don't even ask me if I'm okay. I am more than okay. I am— I am fucking fantastic." Aeleus's brow disappeared into his hairline. Ienzo was too prim to swear unless he really meant it. "Just. Just do that thing with your hips again."  
  
He let out a sigh of relief that he hadn't hurt Ienzo and obligingly rolled his hips forward again, and Ienzo all but melted into a puddle, trying to stifle his moans by pressing his mouth against Aeleus's shoulder once more.  
  
Now that he was finally inside of him, tightly enveloped in warmth, Aeleus knew he wouldn't be able to last much longer. He'd been sex-deprived for far too long (Ienzo could be a total cocktease when he wanted to be) and the pure excitement of Ienzo being here, chasing him down despite their blow-out of an argument, climbing on top of him and proving that he loved him, was almost enough to end him right there. Add to that the irresistible noises that an obviously turned-on Ienzo was making, and he was a goner.  
  
"Ienzo…" he groaned. "I don't think I can hold off much longer."  
  
"Good," Ienzo breathed, his voice lusty with desire and his face positively glowing. "I want your pleasure to come first. I promised I'd prove myself to you, and driving you out of your mind is exactly what I had planned." Placing both hands on his chest, Ienzo pushed Aeleus flat on his back and kissed him deeply, fingers tangling in reddish-brown hair and mouth moving hungrily.  
  
He was gone. Ienzo was the glue that held him together, his hands smoothing down his hair and mouth pressed against his chest as he went to pieces. When he finally went still, he exhaled deeply, letting out the breath he didn't know he had been holding. He buried his head in Ienzo's neck, breathing in the scent of his skin. Ienzo smiled and rubbed him soothingly.  
  
"Feel better?" he murmured.  
  
Aeleus laughed breathlessly. "Fuck, yes," he answered, pulling Ienzo away from him to soak in his image.  
  
Ienzo's eyes were glassy, his breath erratic, and his cheeks flushed. It dawned on Aeleus that he'd been restraining his own pleasure in his attempt to please him.  
  
"I know that I probably shouldn't be saying this since you're a boy and all," Aeleus began slowly, hesitant, "but god, it's true. You're beautiful, Ienzo. Especially like this." His hand closed around Ienzo, and the slight boy tipped his head back in ecstasy, his lips parted. He arched up into Aeleus's hand, spine curving gracefully like the neck of a swan.  
  
Aeleus couldn't tear his eyes away from Ienzo's face, transfixed by his expressions and the small, soft noises of contentment and encouragement that slipped out of him. He knew Ienzo was close to coming when he felt Ienzo tense up, his breath quickening, practically whimpering with pleasure. One last stroke was all he needed to come undone, spilling into Aeleus's hand and calling out his name.  
  
Worn out and exhausted, Ienzo curled up on top of Aeleus, arms looped around his neck. His eyes had drifted shut, and Aeleus took the moment to discreetly grope around on the floor for the closest article of clothing. His hand found Ienzo's shirt, and he carelessly wiped his sticky hand off on it. He was fully prepared for the repercussions of his actions (i.e. Ienzo's horror and the bitching that was sure to follow once he realized that Aeleus had defiled his immaculately clean and most likely expensive shirt), but the only thing he cared about right now was holding Ienzo close to his chest, which he made sure to do once he had cleaned off his hand.  
  
Ienzo mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, "I love you."  
  
He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. "I love you too," he replied, and he meant it sincerely. Any doubts that had plagued him about Ienzo's loyalty to him were assuaged, putting his mind at ease.  
  
He still couldn't help but marvel over the fact that not only did Dilan and Ienzo team up with each other, neither of them managed to kill each other in the process. He owed Dilan one, he thought absent-mindedly before letting his eyes close, still cradling Ienzo to his chest.   
  
\------------------------  
  
"God, don't you ever answer your doorbell?" Dilan asked, annoyed when Braig finally opened his door a good ten minutes after he mashed the buzzer several times.  
  
"I thought you were a telemarketer," Braig said by way of excuse, opening the door and letting him into his apartment.  
  
"I sent you a text like an hour ago saying I'd be over!"  
  
"Oh, my phone's dead. What brings you here anyway?"  
  
"You're a dumbass," Dilan informed him. "And I'm here 'cause if all's going according to plan, Aeleus and his boy are getting it on in the apartment."  
  
"Thanks, you too." Braig headed to the kitchen to grab two beers from the fridge while Dilan took over one of the two armchairs in his makeshift living room. "They finally make up then?"  
  
"I hope so, 'cause I'm getting pretty damn sick of dealing with his pansy ass moping around all the time. Guy's a lost cause." He caught the beer that Braig tossed him with one hand and popped open the tab.  
  
"A-fucking-men," Braig agreed, flopping down on the chair opposite Dilan. "But oh, dude, get a load of this. I've got a story for ya."  
  
"Oh, this is going to be good." Dilan smirked; Braig was a notoriously bad storyteller, and his stories were all of the "he-said, she-said" variety, but he got really into them, which was always good for a laugh.  
  
"Okay, so I'm leaving Eastern Religions today, and this guy behind me keeps stepping on the back of my heels and tripping me up until I finally turn around and am like, 'The fuck is your problem?' And he just says, 'What's your problem?' like I'm the one to blame, right? And I'm like, 'Dude, who put the stick up your ass?' And he shoots back at me, 'At least I don't have a dick up my ass!'"  
  
Dilan began to laugh. "I like this guy. Real witty."  
  
"Shut up, beefeater."  
  
"If you call me that one more time, I'm gonna wreck your face."  
  
"No you wouldn't. My face is too pretty to be wrecked."  
  
"Didn't stop me this morning, did it?"  
  
"Can I finish my story? Anyways, at this point, I'm just going, 'Whoa, whoa, whoa. Dude, you don't even know me. You don't even know who I'm dating. For all you know I could be totally straight.' Well, I guess he didn't buy that 'cause he just snorted and went, 'Please, you're gayer than the love child of Lance Bass and Richard Simmons."  
  
Dilan was practically on the floor with laughter at this point.  
  
"No, but get this— he got all high-and-mighty and was like, 'Maybe I do know who you're dating. And maybe I know for a fact that he's too good for you. He deserves more than a greasy sleaze like you who asks him to marry him in the middle of the fucking hallway—'"  
  
"Dude!" Dilan exclaimed. "That's exactly why I smashed your face in! He thought you— and I— oh, _hell_ no!"  
  
"I know, isn't it a riot? I was all, 'Ew, no' —no offense, dude— and he got all confused until I explained that we were just, you know, friends who like to take the piss outta each other and all. He just kinda excused himself after that. It was hilarious, man."  
  
"Seriously." Dilan shook his head and chuckled. "And hey, he had one thing right. You are a greasy sleaze." He ducked the empty beer can that Braig chucked at his head, laughing.  
  
Wait. "Why would he even care if we were dating? And that you were too good for me? What did this kid look like?"  
  
"Uhhhhhh… blond hair? Piercings." Braig frowned at the ceiling, trying to remember what the stranger looked like from his brief encounter with him. "Oh yeah, and a British accent, I think."  
  
"Oh, him," Dilan said offhandedly. "Yeah, he's an asshole. Ignore him, he likes to fuck with people's minds."  
  
"What, you know him?"  
  
"Yeah," he said shortly. "Or at least, I thought I did."  
  
"Okay, you're gonna have to give me more to work with than that," Braig said, motioning for him to go on.  
  
"He's my ex, the bastard who led me on and dumped me and stole my money." That was as far as he was willing to elaborate; the memories were still too painful to conjure.  
  
Braig let out a short bark of laughter. "Ha! You dated that guy? Man, what were you on?"  
  
"Eh, he grows on you." Dilan took a swig of beer, trying to maintain a detached façade. "…Kind of like cancer," he added. "Just as destructive too. Only cancer's not addictive."  
  
"That is the most poignant metaphor I've ever heard."  
  
"I try. Now pass me a controller," he said, motioning towards Braig's X-box. "I'm gonna kick your ass at Black Ops."  
  
"You wish!"  
  
\------------------------  
  
Rudol kicked at an innocent pebble lying in front of him, watching it skitter away from him. He sat slumped the bench outside his dormitory waiting for Lumaria to come pick him up for work. For some bizarre reason that even he himself couldn't comprehend, he'd approached the boy whom Dilan sat with in Eastern Religions after class and picked a fight with him. He didn't know _why_ he did — after all, it's not like he _liked_ Dilan and besides, he could date whomever he wanted.  
  
But then the greasy-haired kid had said that they weren't dating after all, which only fucked with his mind even more.  
  
Right now, his mind was too tired to consider the implications of this. He could feel it shutting down, lights winking off one by one.  
  
"Rudy!" Lumaria's voice sang, and Rudol looked up to see his friend waving at him his rather beat-up car (any car that Lumaria drove had to be beat-up, judging by the number of hits it would take in the course of a single trip).  
  
The blond stood up and almost fell over, losing his balance.  
  
"Whoa!" Lumaria left his car and was at Rudol's side in an instant, taking him by the elbow to support him. "You okay? Did you trip or something?" Rudol didn't answer immediately, and Lumaria frowned, concerned. "Are you sure you're feeling okay? You're not looking so good today."  
  
"I'm fine," Rudol said, his voice weak and indistinct.  
  
"Uh, you clearly aren't fine, judging by your behavior." Lumaria placed a fretful hand against his forehead and instantly withdrew. "Rudy, you're burning up! Come on, you can't go to work in this state."  
  
"I can't miss work," he mumbled, batting Lumaria's hand away from him. His face was ashen and he looked as though he'd be sick to his stomach.  
  
"You've been working so hard, you're making yourself sick. You're pushing yourself too much. You can afford to miss one day of work. Let's get you back upstairs."  
  
His head tried to protest but his feet led him after Lumaria, who was fussing over him like a mother hen. A deranged, pink mother hen.  
  
"Okay, now I have to go to work, but you get some rest. A good night's sleep will help. Call me when you wake up."  
  
Rudol nodded wordlessly, not trusting himself to not throw up everything he had eaten today if he so much as opened his mouth. He climbed into bed, and Lumaria tucked him in, smoothing the sheets around him. Exhaustion overwhelmed his tired muscles, and he sank gratefully into sleep, blissful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do Not judge me for the lotion in this chapter, I wrote it ten years ago, when I was an inexperienced college freshman and I am very embarrassed about it! Not embarrassed enough to rewrite it but hey!!


	9. Chapter 9

Rudol heaved a heavy sigh. He hated waiting. He really did. He was impulsive and impatient by nature, which is why sitting alone in an empty lounge waiting to meet with his writing professor was excruciatingly torturous. He managed to keep himself entertained by people-watching; the writing center was on the same floor as a number of classrooms, so he could at least observe students coming and going. He was in the middle of idly wondering just how much glue the girl with the mohawk had to use to keep her hair upright when he noticed another familiar head of hair pass by the glass door. Specifically, a dreadlocked head of hair.  
  
Rudol didn't waste time thinking. The minute it registered that Dilan was in the vicinity, he was up and out of his seat and halfway across the room.  
  
"Dilan!" he called, swinging open the door of the writing center, but the other man had already entered the stairwell. Heads turned his way, but he didn't care how many funny looks he received. Determined not to lose sight of Dilan, Rudol shoved aside anyone who dared to cross paths with him and took the stairs two at a time.  
  
He slammed through the front doors of the building, the doors banging wildly behind him. "Dilan!" he called again, louder this time, but Dilan was halfway down the street. He took off at a dead run, ignoring the burning in his lungs, until he grabbed Dilan by the back of his shirt and forced him to a halt.  
  
"Dilan, I need to tell you something," he managed to say in between gasps of air. "I love you." Rudol looked up at him, but his face was impassive, and he faltered. "You… you still love me, right? You do, don't you?"  
  
Dilan finally met his gaze, and Rudol wished that he hadn't, because the cold in his eyes soaked through to his bones. "I trusted you," he said, his words quiet and carefully measured. The pain and betrayal in his voice was unmistakable. "I thought we had something. But you betrayed me. You lied to me, you stole from me, you played me for a fool. And you still expect me to love you after what you did to me?" He shook his head, disappointment etched in his features.  
  
He was desperate to make things right again. "Look, I know what I did was wrong, but that's because I didn't know then what I know now. I love you, Dilan, I love you. You have to believe me, you have to take me back, you have to love me…" Plaintive, pleading, Rudol touched Dilan's arm in an act of desperation. Dilan yanked away as if he had been burned and shot him a look of deepest loathing.  
  
The sudden smell of scorched flesh singed Rudol's nostrils, and he recoiled in horror. He was unable to tear his eyes away, transfixed as he watched Dilan's flesh sizzle, an imprint of his hand branded into his skin.  
  
"Why should I?" Dilan responded, seemingly unconcerned by the way his skin was bubbling ominously where Rudol had touched him. "You disgust me."  
  
He could only watch helplessly as Dilan turned away from him and disappeared into the sudden fog that swirled around them. It was deathly quiet in his absence; the only sound Rudol could hear was the steady drip-drip of liquid pooling on the pavement. A sickening stench filled the air, the warm smell of internal organs, and he realized that blood was seeping through his shirt and trickling down his chest. He ripped off his shirt and looked down, aghast at the black, gaping hole in his chest.  
  
Dilan had left him, and he'd taken his heart with him. He opened his mouth to scream, and —  
  
\------------------------  
  
Rudol woke up with a gasp, drenched in sweat and shivering. He clawed at his shirt to make sure that his chest was still intact and breathed a deep sigh of relief upon finding that there was no hole and his heart was still beating safely inside of him. His skin was still prickling from the aftereffects of the dream, just another one in the myriad of night terrors that plagued him every time he managed to drift off into a fitful sleep. Over the past few days, his fever had spiked drastically, bringing with it the chills that wracked him with tremors and made it impossible for him to stay warm.  
  
 _Cold._ He'd kicked the covers off of his bed in his sleep again. Rudol groped around on the floor in search of his comforter and dragged the tangled bundle of sheets onto his bed once more, wrapping himself in it as best as he could.  
  
"I… I don't understand…" he mumbled to himself, still delirious and unable to process his latest nightmare. He was too shaken up by the images burned on the insides of his eyelids to function, let alone wrap his mind around the inner complexities of his dream. His head refused to listen to any logical thoughts, and he rationalized away the dream. "It's just a dream," he repeated to himself. "It's just your mind being weird and spewing things out. It doesn't mean anything. It's not like… you… love him or anything."  
  
He buried deeper under the covers as if that could block out his traitorous thoughts. And with that last conscious thought, he sank back into reluctant sleep, his body's automatic defense mechanism to the predatory virus eating away at his immune system.  
  
\------------------------  
  
There is no prelude, no context, no situation as in his previous dream. Just him, Dilan, and the thin layer of clothes that separates them. And then, not even that.  
  
It's like nothing has changed, yet everything has changed. Their bodies fit together like a jigsaw puzzle, like finding the missing piece and placing it back where it belongs, where it fits snugly next to its other half.  
  
Simple, fleeting sensations are all he knows. Dilan's mouth against his, lips seeking out his own, trailing down his jaw line. Hot breath whispering in his ear, tantalizing words of lust and affection. He shudders, a thrill coursing down his spine and causing his back to arch beneath Dilan's hands.  
  
His breath, ragged and raw. His legs, wrapped around Dilan to give him greater access to his sweet spot, allowing him to deepen his thrusts. His hands, scrabbling for purchase, trying to pull Dilan closer to him, pressing his body tight against his, rubbing up against his firm stomach. It's too much, too much to bear.  
  
He squeezes his eyes shut, biting Dilan's shoulder to keep from crying out in painpleasure _paradise_ , but it isn't enough to stifle the whimpers that escape him. The tension hits its peak, and he gives in, moaning unrestrainedly as he rides out the waves of his climax, hips rolling forward as he comes, spilling across his bare torso.  
  
Then, cold hits him all at once. Still foggy, as if moving through water, he blinks up at Dilan, his source of body heat gone. He tries to speak, a question on his lips, but he finds himself physically unable to vocalize.  
  
Towering over him, Dilan speaks for him. "Now you know what it's like." His words are accusatory, devoid of any prior trace of warmth. "To love and be left."  
  
He watches as Dilan turns and departs, struggling to call after his retreating back, but his words are stuck in his throat. Finally, he manages to utter a single name, but even that is ripped from his throat and snatched up by a sudden gust of wind, and Rudol is left alone, vulnerable, and cold.  
  
\------------------------  
  
 _Wet,_ was his first conscious thought. It took him a few moments to dimly realize that he had been crying in his sleep, hot, salty tears leaking out of the corner of his eyes, tracking down his cheeks, and dripping onto the sheets. He half-opened his eyes, blinking rapidly, and struggled to a seated position.  
  
 _Sticky_ was the second thought that occurred to him. His face was still slick with unbidden tears, his body was drenched in sweat, and his sheets and pajamas were plastered to his skin. He peeled away the layers of fabric covering him and grimaced down at himself. He was a mess, wrecked both physically and emotionally.  
  
"Jizz, sweat, and tears," he said aloud. "It sounds like the beginning of a bad porno." He gave a shaky laugh, which only made him feel worse, and the forced laughter quickly turned to half-hysterical sobs. He could feel a constricting panic gripping him, and he fumbled about for his phone, which was buried somewhere beneath the thin layer of tissues and debris that coated the floor around his bed. Still in a feverish haze, he somehow managed to find it and dial one of the few numbers he had programmed into his speed-dial.  
  
A sharp, feminine voice answered with a slightly irritated, "Hello?"  
  
"Rennie!" Rudol blurted out, relief washing over him. His mind was too fuzzy and jumbled to really register her tone of voice; he was simply grateful that she had answered at all. He was sure she'd be able to help him, or at least soothe his frazzled nerves. "Rennie, I'm such a wreck, I keep dreaming about him, and they're the worst nightmares. I wake up, and it's like he's still there, but he's not, and I don't know what to do. Rennie, what's wrong with me?"  
  
"I don't know what's wrong with you, but there's going to _be_ something wrong with you if you interrupt me during my date one more time. Some of us still have love lives to maintain, you know." L'Erena hung up in a huff without giving him a chance to respond.  
  
Rudol stared at his phone through glassy eyes. "Ouch," he said quietly despite the fact that there was no one around to hear it. L'Erena could be downright cruel at times, even though he knew she would regret it later and would inevitably call him to apologize like she always did.  
  
But it didn't make him feel any better at the moment. He pressed number five on his mobile phone's keypad and closed his eyes, praying for Lumaria to pick up his phone. He perked up slightly when he heard someone pick up on the other end. "Lulu?" He knew he must sound weak and pitiful, but he was too far gone to care what he looked like to others. His ego was already bruised enough. And besides, it was _Lulu_ , who loved him unconditionally regardless of his physical state.  
  
"Rudy, hang on—" There was a rustling noise as Lumaria held the phone away from his ear and hissed something at someone else who was in the room. "Even, get off of me for like two seconds, this is important."  
  
He didn't think it was even possible to feel even worse than he did currently, but his spirits sank even lower at Lumaria's hushed words. Just like when he contacted L'Erena, he was interrupting another set of lovers, when he himself was all alone and miserable with only the ghost of a past relationship to keep him company. The floodgates opened, and he found himself spilling everything to Lumaria, words tumbling over one another in his haste to get them out.  
  
"I'm sorry, I'm interrupting, I just— nightmares— and they're all about him, and I don't even know what— and I tried calling Rennie— but—"  
  
"Rudy—" Lumaria tried to intervene, finding an opening to speak once Rudol paused long enough to take a breath. "Rudy, I can't understand a word you're saying. Calm down. Blow your nose. Get a drink of water. And then tell me what happened."  
  
He sniffed. "Okay." Rudol put the phone down and crawled over the box of tissues at the foot of his bed. He could hear Lumaria squawking at Even on the other side of the line and giggled unsteadily. Lumaria really did remind him of a deranged, pink mother hen. It was a comforting thought.  
  
When he picked up the phone again, the first thing he heard was a distant, "I _told_ you, Even, this is important. Go study or something while I talk to him. Jesus." More crackling of static in his ear, then Lumaria spoke to him again. "Rudy? You there?"  
  
"Mmmnn."  
  
"Okay. Let's take this one step at a time," Lumaria instructed, his voice soothing and rational. Rudol would have smiled if he wasn't convinced that the corners of his mouth were incapable of turning upwards at the moment; he could always count on Lulu to hold his hand and walk him through a crisis. "First, what was that you said about Rennie?"  
  
He sniffed, wiping his nose with a tissue. "I tried calling her first," he explained, subdued. "And she said something about how 'some of us still have love lives to maintain.' And then she hung up on me."  
  
"Well, she is PMSing," Lumaria said knowledgeably. "You know how she gets. Plus, I know that she's nervous because she's spending the day with Nami and taking her out on a proper date tonight. I helped her pick out an evening outfit, and she's going to be the cutest little gentleman ever, I swear—" Rudol sneezed suddenly, and Lumaria immediately stopped gushing. "Sorry, I got carried away. That was a little insensitive. The point is, don't take it personally. She's just crabby and crampy and taking her nerves out on you. Now, what happened to make you so upset in the first place?"  
  
He twisted his sheets in his hands as he tried to corral his thoughts together, the phone cradled against his shoulder. "I'm," he began slowly, attempting to sort through the jumbled mess of thoughts inside his head, "having some seriously fucked up dreams. Nightmares. And they're always about the same thing, every single time." He paused to wipe his brow with the sleeve of his shirt.  
  
"Go on," Lumaria prompted him. "What are they about?"  
  
"Dilan," he said, finding it difficult to even speak his name.  
  
"Ah."  
  
"Yeah. I know. And, I mean, it's like…" He was having a hard time articulating his thoughts. Hell, he didn't even know _what_ he thought. "Okay, I've never said 'I love you' to anyone before. Never. So why am I saying it in my dreams? It's just… just some fucked up mental thing, right? And— okay, if this was anyone else it would be awkward, but it's you, so whatever— I had a wet dream, for Christ's sake. I feel like I'm thirteen and a virgin again. I haven't had one in years, and never about someone I know, let alone an ex. I don't know where all this is coming from, and it's seriously starting to scare me." His voice broke a little. "What's wrong with me, Lulu? I don't know why I'm feeling like this, why I'm having all these bizarre dreams, why I can't get him out of my head…"  
  
There was a moment's pause as Lumaria worked out how to tactfully approach the subject. "Here's what I think. I think that right now, you're sick. You're a mess. It's no wonder you're having weird dreams. But I also think that your subconscious is speaking to you."  
  
"What do you mean, my subconscious is speaking to me?"  
  
"Oh, Rudy…" Lumaria said sadly. "Don't you get it? Look inside. You know what you feel for him."  
  
Rudol fell silent. He understood what Lumaria was insinuating, but his brain refused to accept the possibility. "Lulu, I can't," he pleaded. "I can't l-love him."  
  
"But you do, don't you?"  
  
"No. No, I don't." He shook his head fervently, drawing his knees close to his chest and curling up into a protective ball. "I don't, I can't, I won't." He knew he sounded pathetic, or worse, like a petulant child, but he was feverish enough to not even care.  
  
"It's okay to love someone, Rudy, it's okay. I know you're scared, but I promise you it'll be okay. You don't have to be alone. You can let someone else in." His voice was soft and gentle, a healing balm, but it only frightened Rudol further.  
  
"You don't get it!" he burst out. "None of you get it! You don't know what it's like for me. What it's like to go your entire life being so independent, not needing anyone else, jumping from one person to another, being so goddamn _happy_ — and then suddenly have life as you know it, your entire worldview, turn upside down, and you realize that you're so fucked up—" He felt unshed tears prickling the back of his eyes, and he wiped at them roughly. He blamed the virus that was destroying him from the inside out for this overwhelming emotion that besieged him. "I can't do this. I can't talk about this anymore. Not now."  
  
"Okay," Lumaria said, and his voice was so kind and understanding that it made Rudol want to cry all over again. "We'll talk about it later, when you're feeling well again. How are you feeling, by the way? Any better?"  
  
"No. If anything, I feel worse," Rudol said, relaxing from his tense position. He was glad for the change of subject; at least he could talk about his health without feeling ridiculously weak and needy. "I still have a fever, I know that much. I can't find my thermometer so I don't know if it's gone down any, though. It's buried somewhere in here." He looked around his room in despair. He wasn't exceptionally messy under ordinary circumstances, but his entire living quarters had fallen into disarray since he'd taken ill. "I'm either too cold or too hot, and I can't stop shaking. I'm nauseous all the time, dizzy, lightheaded…"   
  
"Hmmm." Lumaria said thoughtfully. "Have you eaten anything yet today?"  
  
"No. I finished off my Cheerios last night and don't have any food left in the dorm. And I don't even _want_ to eat right now. I feel like I'm going to be sick."  
  
"Well, you need to eat _something_. Your body needs nourishment to get better, and not eating will only make you feel more nauseous and lightheaded. I'll stop by with some chicken soup in a few hours, okay?"  
  
"No way," Rudol said immediately. "You are not coming over. I'm not going to risk you falling ill because of me, Lulu. I'm fine, I swear."  
  
"Rudy. Do you really think that's going to stop me?" Lumaria scoffed. "Remember when I gave you swine flu last year, and you bombed all of your finals because of it? If I get sick, consider it payback. I'm not going to let a silly thing like that stop me. Besides," he added, his voice softening a little, "I have Even to take care of me. You have no one. So let me take care of you today, and let Even douse me in disinfectant and anti-bacterial hand wipes when I get home. Okay?"  
  
Rudol sighed; there was no arguing with Lumaria when he got an idea in his head. "Fine," he said grudgingly. "Whatever you say."  
  
"Great!" he chirped, excited to play the role of nursemaid. "I'll just whip up some soup, and I'll be over in, say, two or three hours?"  
  
"Alright. I don't know if I'll be asleep then or not, but just knock me up when you get here. It should be enough to wake me up, god knows how restlessly I've been sleeping…"  
  
Lumaria stifled a snigger. "I don't know how Even would feel about me knocking you up."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Never mind. You go get some rest, and I'll see you later."  
  
"See you."  
  
Rudol ended the call and dropped his phone to the floor. He looked down at himself in dismay and figured that he should at least attempt to make himself suitable for company, even if it was only Lulu who would be seeing him. He stripped off his shirt and used it to clean himself up as best as he was able before shoving it in the hamper stored beneath his bed. He stared at his bed for a few moments before opting to strip the top sheet off of it as well.  
  
With a fresh change of clothes (or at least a dry pair of boxers and a shirt that wasn't soaked with sweat), Rudol dragged his blanket around him and flopped back down on his bed. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes until multicolored lights swarmed his vision, like the flash of a thousand cameras popping behind his eyelids. "God," he groaned. "What's happening to me? It's like I don't even know who I am anymore."  
  
Thinking was still too painful to indulge in much of it.  
  
Thinking about _him_ was even worse.  
  
He struggled to keep his mind carefully blank, yet it never failed to keep drifting back to the same cyclical thoughts, to the same person who wouldn't get out of his head, asleep or awake.  
  
Dilan.  
  
\------------------------  
  
He was floating in the in-between dividing dream and reality when the sound of someone knocking jolted him back into consciousness. He'd just managed to zone out any thoughts of Dilan and his own personal inadequacies, and he scrunched his eyes shut, trying to lose himself once more. The knocking came again, more persistently this time. Grumbling in protest, he got out of bed, dragging his tangled bundle of covers with him.  
  
Rudol padded over to the door and unlocked it, opening it to reveal Lumaria, who was looking far too perky in a flowered apron and clutching a Tupperware container like the perfect little housewife.  
  
"Oh my god, Rudy, you look like shit!" Lumaria exclaimed without thinking, then instantaneously clapped a hand over his mouth. "Shit, did I just say that out loud?"  
  
"'Lo to you too," Rudol replied dully, stepping aside to let him in. As he shut the door, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the wall and was forced to admit that Lumaria had a point. His face was ashen, his usual shock of blond hair was limp, and he had enough bags under his eyes to rival his great-aunt's handbag collection.  
  
"So! I made you some chicken soup. Are you hungry?"  
  
His stomach lurched at the thought of food. "Ahh… no." Lumaria eyed him beadily. "But I suppose a little soup wouldn't hurt," he hastily amended, not wanting to provoke Lumaria when he was ill and defenseless.  
  
"Wonderful! It's still warm, too." Lumaria, who knew his way around Rudol's room like he knew the back of his hand, retrieved a bowl where it had fallen behind the micro-fridge and a spoon from his bottom left desk drawer. He ladled out a generous portion of soup and handed it to Rudol, who took a dutiful spoonful. The blond expected to simply taste it and put the rest aside for later, when he had more of an appetite and was less prone to regurgitating everything he swallowed.  
  
"This… is actually good," he admitted and took another sip.  
  
"Don't doubt my cooking," Lumaria admonished, wagging a finger at him. "Nurse Lulu knows best!" He swiveled around and appraised the room. "You keep eating while I straighten up in here." He pulled out a garbage bag and began sweeping up tissues into it.  
  
Rudol took a few more gulps of soup before placing the bowl down on top of the micro-fridge. "Actually, Lulu?" His voice sounded impossibly small, even to himself. "Can you… do me a favor?"  
  
"Sure, Rudy, anything."  
  
"Just… hold me."  
  
Lumaria didn't ask questions, but simply gathered up Rudol's broken body in his arms and held him as he fell apart, shaking uncontrollably. Rudol tried to tell himself that he was only quivering because of the cold chills that accompanied his fever, but the truth was that he didn't even know anymore.  
  
"I know how hard this is for you," Lumaria said soothingly, stroking his hair.  
  
He choked out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, that's a word for it. I feel like I'm at the lowest point of my life right now. I just feel so miserable all the time, even before I took ill. And I don't even know why. Breaking up with Dilan should have been the best thing that ever happened to me. But now I keep seeing him in my dreams, only this time, it's _me_ getting rejected, and it's… it's tearing me apart. It's just one more thing on top of the massive heap of failure my life has become. I've just… I've fucked up my life so irreparably."  
  
"Nothing's irreparable, Rudy."  
  
"Yes, it is. I've cocked it up completely, haven't I? Christ, what have I done?" Lumaria simply held him tighter and chose to keep silent. Just the fact that he was there and listening was comfort enough for Rudol. He didn't need advice, just someone to listen to him.  
  
"Lulu. I'm scared," Rudol finally confessed as he lay there with his head on Lumaria's chest, listening to the steady rise and fall of his breathing.  
  
"Of what?"  
  
"Love," he said after a moment of silence. "I mean… I've never even done this before." He gestured vaguely at the two of them. "Just held someone or had them hold me. And I've never _wanted_ to before. You know me, it's always about no-strings attached, purely sexual relationships. That's always been good enough for me. It's what keeps me happy; there's no drama, no baggage, no promises to keep, nothing like that. It's why I always get out if I think things are becoming too serious. But… now I'm not so sure if that's the right philosophy. I'm lonely. And it hurts. And the thought that I have to start all over and learn all these rules, the sheer prospect of loving someone so much that you're willing to devote yourself to just that one person, the fact that I'm completely out of my comfort zone and facing the unknown for the first time in my life… it fucking _terrifies_ me. And then there's the fact that I fucked up any chances of me having a normal relationship with anyone. I'll never be able to have a normal relationship in my life. And it's not like anyone could ever love me to begin with, since I'm just a two-faced, lying slut." His voice cracked on the final syllable.  
  
"What?" Lumaria said, indignant on his behalf. "Of _course_ you're not! Who said you were?"  
  
"Dilan," Rudol replied, and he was suddenly struck by the insane urge to break down into laughter. "When he cornered me in the bar after I dumped him. And I gave him an ultimatum: take me as I am or leave me. He left." His shoulders began to shake again, and he tucked his face into Lumaria's apron so that he wouldn't see that he was crying. Between the sickness, the nightmares, and his own thoughts, he'd been worn down, fraying at the edges until he unraveled completely.  
  
"Oh, Rudy," Lumaria said helplessly, rubbing his back in small circles. "It'll work out. If not with Dilan, you'll find someone else. It'll be okay."  
  
Rudol hiccupped. He wanted to say that he didn't want anyone else, he wanted Dilan, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. Because saying it out loud meant that it was real, and he couldn't deal with the reality of his feelings, the reality of the situation as a whole. Instead, he pulled away from Lumaria, sniffling.  
  
"Eh, I'm sorry," he apologized. "I probably got, like, snot all over you or something…"  
  
Lumaria waved away his worries. "I'm wearing an apron, it's fine." He stood up, undoing the neatly tied bow in the back and removed the apron. "I'm more concerned about you. Are you going to be okay? Do you want me to stay the night? Because I will if you need me…" He hovered over Rudol like an anxious, flitting butterfly.  
  
"I'll be fine," he said, but he was reassuring himself more than he was Lumaria. "You can go. I'm just going to drug myself up and pretend that these past two months never happened."  
  
"Well, as long as you're sure you'll be okay by yourself. I put the rest of the chicken soup in the fridge for you. I want you to eat some with a few saltines later so you can get something inside of you and build up your strength again. Text me if you need anything at all, and I'll call you tomorrow to see how you're holding up."  
  
"Yes, Nurse Lulu."  
  
Lumaria smiled affectionately at him. "You'll feel better in the morning. Just get some sleep and don't think too much." He disentangled the blankets from Rudol's body and smoothed them down around him. Once he was satisfied that he was comfortable, Lumaria turned and headed for the door.  
  
"I'll try. And, Lulu?"  
  
"Yes?" Lumaria turned, his hand on the doorknob.  
  
"Thanks." Rudol smiled. It was his first real smile in what seemed like ages.  
  
"Don't mention it. It's what I'm here for. I just wish that I could fix everything for you."  
  
Rudol smiled ruefully. "There's just some things that can't be fixed. But it means the world to me that you try. Bye, Lulu."  
  
"Bye, Rudy."  
  
With the door clicked shut behind Lumaria, Rudol sighed and rolled over so that he was facing the wall. He huddled himself together, drawing his knees to his chest. He was determined to stay awake, determined not to drift off to sleep, determined not to sink back into the twisted torture of nightmares that seemed all too real. His pain was still too raw.


	10. Chapter 10

The three days stretched into a full week of being bedridden, too nauseous to crawl out of bed, too weak to even _think_ about attending class or doing anything remotely resembling work. On the seventh day, Rudol awoke from yet another fitful nightmare with thoughts of Dilan swarming his mind, but he could feel a remarkable difference. His fever had broken at long last, he'd been able to keep down the chicken soup Lumaria had made for him, and he could feel his limbs regaining strength.  
  
"Thank god," he muttered to himself. The virus had affected him strongly, and he was grateful that the worst was over. He breathed a sigh of relief and laid prone in his bed with his eyes closed, trying to clear his head and not think about much at all.  
  
Unfortunately, that was much easier said than done. He felt a tiny prickle of worry flare up in the back of his mind. He'd missed a full week of classes, which wouldn't really be a big deal (god knows he skipped lectures loads of times in the past and still managed to do well enough) if it weren't for the fact that he no longer had anyone to borrow notes from in Eastern Religions, plus he'd already been slacking off on schoolwork because he had to work—  
  
 _Shit._ His eyes flew open, and he bolted upright in bed. Not only had he missed a week's worth of classes; he also missed a full week of work. That was a week's worth of pay lost. He had two days left to pay off his debt, or else Seifer and his lackeys would have his head on a silver platter. He was at least $200 short. A vision of being reduced to a bloody pulp in some sketchy back alley popped into his mind, and he wouldn't have told his mum that he loved her before he died, never mind Dil—  
  
Rudol could feel panic constricting his chest once more, and he buried his head in his hands, a steady stream of cuss words spilling out of his mouth. "Oh god, I am so fucking screwed," he moaned. "What the bloody hell am I supposed to do now? _Shit._ "  
  
This wasn't helping him any. He took another deep breath and tried to calm himself down. "Okay. Okay. There's got to be some way you can sort this out. $200. Two days. You can do this." He was strongly tempted to slip back into his old habits. Go out to the bar, get completely pissed, fall into bed with some guy, and swipe some money from his wallet before vanishing into the night. Easy.  
  
The more he thought about it, the more appealing the idea became. He'd almost talked himself into it when an image of Dilan surfaced unbidden, and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach.  
  
"Okay, maybe that's not such a good game plan after all. Think, Rudol. How can you miraculously manage to make $200 in two days?" He rubbed his forehead wearily. This wasn't happening to him. Not now. It was impossible, there was no way he could possibly—  
  
Unless… but no, it was madness to even consider… but he _was_ desperate…  
  
Rudol swung his legs over the edge of his bed and stood up, crossing the room purposefully. He stood on his tiptoes to reach for the wooden box concealed on top of his wardrobe, his heart thumping in his chest. He carefully slid off the top of the chest and gazed at his most prized possession, neatly centered on a certificate of authenticity: his unopened, mint-condition, cellophane-encased deck of Jerry's Nugget playing cards.  
  
He'd had these cards since he was sixteen, when his grandfather entrusted him with them. Since then, he'd never gone anywhere without them. They were the one thing that always, without fail, accompanied him when traveling to and from England and the United States. Hell, he always made it a point to keep the deck in his carry-on because he was paranoid that he would lose his luggage or something devastating would happen if he kept them in his suitcase.  
  
He swallowed around the lump in his throat and glanced at his laptop. He could fetch upwards of $200 for this — probably even more, come to think of it. But the mere thought of parting with it made his stomach clench uncomfortably. Or maybe that was the fact that he'd barely eaten anything at all within the last week, given that he couldn't keep much down.  
  
"No," he said aloud, shutting the lid and hugging the wooden box to his chest. "Absolutely not. I mean, I love these cards more than I love my own mother." He immediately cast a guilty look at the framed photograph of him and his parents on his desk. "…Sorry, Mum."  
  
Rudol closed his eyes, his head swimming. He'd never been so conflicted in his life. Giving up his Jerry's Nuggets was like giving up a piece of his soul. But then again, if he didn't get the money he owed in time, he would be as good as dead anyway.  
  
Maybe he should just go back to Plan A. Yes. That would be best.  
  
That is, if it weren't for the gnawing guilt that ate away at him every time he thought of doing so. He made his decision.  
  
"Do it for Dilan," he whispered for strength, and sat down at his computer before he could change his mind again.  
  
\------------------------  
  
Dilan pulled out a seat at the kitchen table and straddled it, folding his arms along the back of the chair and resting his chin on his hands. He frowned, his brow furrowed, musing about the lecture he had just returned from. Rudol's seat was empty just as it had been all week, and his absence didn't go unnoticed by Dilan. He didn't know _why_ he felt so dejected when he glanced over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of that familiar head of blond hair and found that it was missing for the third time in a week.  
  
He'd just managed to convince himself that his reaction was only because he was curious as to where the bastard could be when Aeleus entered the room and made a beeline for the fridge. His roommate pulled out a beer from the crisper, and Dilan quirked an eyebrow.  
  
"Bro, it's only noon," he pointed out.  
  
"It's never too early for booze," Aeleus replied, downing half the bottle's contents in a single draught. "And Ienzo's trying to get me to help him pick out an outfit for the concert tonight. I can't do this without being hammered."  
  
Dilan sniggered. "Sucks to be you. Toss me a beer too, god knows I'll need it if this train of thought continues."  
  
"Yeah, what's that about anyway?" Aeleus asked, grabbing another beer from the fridge and tossing it Dilan, who deftly caught the bottle with one hand. "You look like you're about to slit your wrists."  
  
"No I don't, fuck you, man. S'nothing. Rudol was absent in class again today, and I was just wondering where the hell he was."  
  
"You're still thinking about the little fuck?" Aeleus shook his head. "It's been a month and a half since he dumped you, dude. Move on already and go get laid, like he already has. Get over it, you can't keep dwelling on it. The guy was a dick, he's not coming back."  
  
Dilan brooded, Aeleus's advice cluttering his thoughts. "Yeah," he finally said. "Maybe it's time to give it up already. Move on with my life. God knows he already did," he added bitterly, but his knuckles were white from clenching the top of his chair. "He doesn't deserve me or my time. He's just not worth it. And you're right; I'll feel better once I get some." Speaking the words aloud was strangely liberating, and he could feel the tension leaving him. He relaxed his grip on the chair and busied himself with his beer.  
  
"Okay," Ienzo announced briskly as he trotted up to the two of them, shirtless and carrying a different top in each hand. "While I cannot fathom even asking you two imbeciles for an opinion on the matter, I am forced to do so due to the severity of this quandary."  
  
"Aeleus," Dilan said mildly, acting as if he hadn't even heard Ienzo. "Why is there a half-naked midget in our apartment?"  
  
Ienzo threw him a disgusted look and continued, "I'll keep it simple enough so that your fashion-challenged brains can process it."  
  
"Oh, this is rich. I feel so much better already," Dilan announced, popping open the cap of his beer and taking a swig. "I can already tell that this is gonna be quality entertainment."  
  
"Dilan. Would you kindly do me a favor and _shut up_?" Ienzo replied, doing his best to keep his poise intact. "Now, here's what I'm thinking of wearing to the concert tonight." He gestured at his dark, skinny jeans, pointed boots, and expensive leather belt. "Which shirt do you think goes better with the ensemble?" He held up the two shirts for inspection.  
  
"I dunno," Aeleus said, looking alarmed at being asked his opinion. "You're asking me for fashion advice?"  
  
"Aeleus. This is the most important night of my life. Not only am I going to see _Flaming Oceans_ live, I am also going to meet Myde afterwards. _Myde._ That is, if your friend Braig can be trusted to be reliable, which I am beginning to doubt, as he is exceedingly sketchy. Regardless, this is a defining moment in my life. Now, which shirt goes better?"  
  
Aeleus squinted at them, still baffled. "Aren't they the same shirt?" he finally asked, scratching his head in bemusement.  
  
" _No_ , idiot, they are not. Can you not see the studded cuffs of the shirt on the right and the embroidered detailing on the pocket of the left shirt? They are totally different."  
  
There was a beat as Dilan and Aeleus studied the two shirts.  
  
"…Nope, they still look the same to me."  
  
"Oh, I give up!" Ienzo said, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. "It was pointless to ask. The both of you are monosynaptic boors whose intellect is rivaled only by microorganisms."  
  
"What," Aeleus and Dilan said simultaneously, staring at him with twin expressions of blankness.  
  
"Point proven," Ienzo said, smirking and turning on his heel.  
  
Dilan shook his head in disbelief as he watched Ienzo return to the bedroom to continue perusing his clothes. "God, he always has to get the last word in, doesn't he? Little bitch."  
  
\------------------------  
  
His hands still shaking, Rudol dressed himself, donning real clothes for the first time in days. He grimaced as he pulled on his jeans; after living in nothing but sweats and boxer shorts, the denim fabric felt unnaturally stiff and rough, constricting his legs. He zipped up his hoodie and glanced at the clock.  
  
12:30, Friday afternoon. L'Erena and Lumaria would be lounging around at the usual spot where the three of them met after class on Fridays. After making sure that he had his key and all of the essentials, he left his room to join them.  
  
God, fresh air felt good. It was a sunny day with a gentle breeze, and the good weather lightened Rudol's spirits in spite of himself. He scanned the grassy quad and found them reclining in the shade of a large, leafy tree. Lumaria was painting his nails while L'Erena laid on the ground with her head in his lap, talking animatedly. Rudol smiled at the sight and strode across the lawn to meet his friends.  
  
"Oi!" he shouted as he neared them, causing the two to look up in surprise.  
  
L'Erena's eyes widened and she sat bolt upright, knocking aside Lumaria's hands and banging into his chin. She ignored his pained cries in favor of shrieking, "Rudy!" and holding her arms open for a hug. Lumaria joined her in clamoring for Rudol's attention the minute he noticed the blond, forgetting all about his ruined manicure and injured chin.  
  
Rudol laughed, leaning down into L'Erena's hug and bestowing one on Lumaria as well. "S'good to know I've been missed, at least."  
  
"Of course you have! We're one person short of a trio without you here!"  
  
"You're still looking a little peaky though." Lumaria frowned as he pulled away from the hug. "Are you sure you're feeling better?"  
  
"Eh. My fever broke, and Student Health Services says the worst is over." Rudol wiped his brow with his sleeve and sat down on the grass. "But I couldn't stand being shut up in that room any longer. I need my life back to normal again. I just want things back to the way they were. Speaking of which," he added, "can I bum a fag off of you, Rennie?"  
  
Lumaria clucked his tongue in disapproval. "Are you sure you should be smoking if you're still not feeling so hot?"  
  
"Of course I should! C'mon, it'll make me feel better. Give me that at least, Lulu."  
  
L'Erena dug around in her satchel for her customary pack of Marlboro Lights and tossed them to Rudol. "You can keep them," she noted. "I'm trying to quit."  
  
" _You're_ trying to quit?"  
  
"Yeah," she said, smiling faintly at nothing in particular as she tipped her head back and gazed up at the clouds. "Nami doesn't like me smoking, so I promised I'd stop for her. She refused to kiss me whenever I smoked."  
  
"You're mad," Rudol told her, but he couldn't keep from grinning. L'Erena was head over heels for her girlfriend, and it touched him. If anyone deserved love, it was her, after years spent pining after straight girls who never loved her back. And now, the object of her affections was equally smitten. Even if he was less than lucky in love at the present, he was glad to see his best friend so happy with someone else.  
  
"Hey, people do crazy things when they're in love."  
  
"I know, but I never thought I'd see the day where you'd willingly quit smoking." Rudol pulled a lighter out of his pocket and lit up; while L'Erena's actions were noble, he had no intention of quitting anytime soon.  
  
"Yeah, well…" She looked down from the sky to glance at him, the ghost of a smile still glimmering on her face. "Sometimes love means being willing to change for that person. It means loving them enough to be a better person for them, even if it hurts."  
  
Rudol nearly dropped his cigarette but quickly recovered, lifting it to his lips and taking a drag to steady himself. L'Erena's words chilled him to the bone. While she hadn't been speaking about him necessarily, the message still hit him hard, like a bullet to the chest. As much as he hated to admit it, it was time to face the truth. He finished his cigarette in silence, scarcely listening to Lumaria speculating with L'Erena about the possibilities of reaching second base with Nami. When an opening in the conversation arose, he took a deep breath and screwed up all his courage.  
  
"Rennie, Lulu," he said formally, "I have a confession to make."  
  
"You're not a natural blond?" Lumaria guessed right off the bat, leaning forward in eager anticipation.  
  
"What? No, of course—"  
  
"You're secretly a gay pornstar!" L'Erena chimed in.  
  
"I wish. And technically, I'm not gay, I'm omnisexual. There is a diff—"  
  
"Come to think of it, isn't there some gay pornstar with blond hair and piercings that looks an awful lot like him?" Lumaria asked conversationally, turning to L'Erena and ignoring Rudol entirely.  
  
"Don't ask me, I wouldn't know. Lesbian and all, you know."  
  
"Well, if it's not that, then it has to be that you're moving back to England. Oh my god, Rudy, why didn't you tell us?!"  
  
"No, it's none of that!" he cried in exasperation. "Bloody hell, would you let me finish?"  
  
"Okay, shoot."  
  
Now that he was given the opportunity to complete a sentence, nerves took over once more. "I think… I think I'm in love with Dilan," he confessed, the words rushing together in his haste to get them off his chest.  
  
There was an exceptionally long pause as his two best friends stared at him, before Lumaria smacked himself upside the head and broke the spell.  
  
L'Erena rolled her eyes. "Well, it took you long enough," she said, sarcasm dripping from her every word.  
  
"Hate to break it to you, Rudy, but we knew that long before you did. You're not exactly the brightest bulb in the box when it comes to matters of the heart."  
  
"I beg your pardon, but I get a lot more action than either of you do," he retorted indignantly.  
  
"Matters of the _heart_ , not matters of the dick, dweeb."  
  
"Besides, you're not even getting any right now anyway," L'Erena added in her usual blunt fashion.  
  
Rudol winced perceptibly.  
  
"Oops," L'Erena said guiltily. "Nami says I can be too callous sometimes. I'm trying to work on it." The same dopey grin that always surfaced when she thought about Nami reappeared.  
  
"She said that? When?" Lumaria asked, always keen for a bit of gossip.  
  
"After I hung up on you when you called me in the middle of our date a few days ago, Rudy," she replied, nodding at Rudol. "I'm sorry about that, by the way." She squeezed his shoulder affectionately.  
  
"I know. You already called me to apologize like five times already." He grinned at her, but the smile soon slipped off his face and was replaced by a worried frown. "But… if I do, you know, love him… then what do I do now? I fucked everything up so horribly that I don't even know if he'll ever take me back." Gloom settled down on his shoulders once more. "And I can't even blame him if he didn't. What do I do?" He looked up at his friends, his face pain-stricken.  
  
L'Erena sighed and ran her fingers through her slicked-back hair. "You've got a lot of fixing to do, that's what."  
  
"But hey, we're here for you. You don't have to do it alone; we'll help you figure it out. 'Cause that's what friends are for." Lumaria smiled and extended his pinky fingers in their familiar gesture.  
  
Hope flickered within Rudol once more. "Okay," he said. "We'll do this together." He grinned as he interlocked pinkies with L'Erena and Lumaria and shook on it.  
  
\------------------------  
  
Aeleus didn't think he had ever seen Ienzo as happy as he was at the moment. He _definitely_ had never seen him with an expression of such complete and unbridled joy on his face. The _Flaming Oceans_ concert had just ended, and Ienzo was still bright-faced and starry-eyed. Braig had managed to get them backstage and left to go find Myde. He'd warned them that the introduction would be brief, but Ienzo was still over the moon. Aeleus watched as he tried to regain his composure, rearranging his face into a carefully blank mask. It wasn't working.  
  
"Ie," he said cautiously, uncertain about whether or not he liked this new Ienzo. "You're not going to do anything stupid, are you?"  
  
"I resent your blatant insinuations, Aeleus. I don't _do_ stupid," Ienzo replied scathingly, giving him one of his trademark withering looks. Aeleus breathed a sigh of relief; the old Ienzo he knew and loved was back. "I believe you and Apeface have that particular area of expertise covered. No, I am simply going to greet him, we will have a simple and pleasurable chat, and then we'll be on our way. Easy as pie."  
  
"Pie?" came an unfamiliar voice from the far side of the room. "Did someone say pie? I distinctly heard 'pie.'"  
  
Aeleus turned to find the source of the voice. Braig had returned and was standing next to a figure who was unmistakably Myde, his hand in the rockstar's back pocket and a wide smirk on his face. Aeleus did a onceover, scanning Myde from head to toe to see what it was that had Ienzo so captivated by him, and was thoroughly unimpressed. It was one thing to see him up on the stage, surrounded by strobe lights and multicolored laser effects; it was another thing entirely to see him offstage and face-to-face, when he only had the glitz and glamour of his wardrobe to mark his stardom. And as Aeleus had amply proved that he knew nothing whatsoever about fashion, he didn't see the appeal.  
  
His eyes flicked back to Myde's face, and he couldn't help but notice that the kid was wearing sunglasses. Indoors. Despite the dim backstage lighting. He looked like a total tool.  
  
"Yeah, pie's good," Myde finished inanely, tipping down his sunglasses to peer over the lenses at the two of them. He smiled, then pushed the sunglasses back up once more. "Hey," he said easily, slipping his hands into the pockets of his rhinestone-studded jeans. "I'm Myde. But… you probably already knew that. Anyway, nice to meet you."  
  
"Hey," Aeleus said curtly, lifting his chin in greeting. His arm was still firmly and protectively wrapped around Ienzo's waist, marking him as his possession. "I'm Aeleus, and this is my boyfriend, Ienzo." He stressed the word 'boyfriend' for added emphasis, although he wouldn't have been surprised if they went right over Blondie's head. He was probably high off of hairspray fumes, judging by the pie comment. Lord knows how many cans he went through a day to keep that mulhawk standing.  
  
But maybe he was just being resentful, because a starstruck Ienzo was staring at Myde with a bug-eyed expression on his face. "Ie? You gonna say hi?" He nudged Ienzo, who was frozen to the spot.  
  
Ienzo seemed unable to find his voice. He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut abruptly. He finally blurted out, "Can I hold your hand?"  
  
Aeleus buried his head in his hands. Braig burst into raucous laughter.  
  
"Uhhhhh… kay?" Myde looked surprised but rather gratified and extended his hand.  
  
Ienzo took it with reverence, as if unable to believe this was actually happening to him. He needed confirmation that he wasn't just daydreaming or conjuring up a hallucination. "This is real," he muttered to himself in awe. "I'm not dreaming. Myde's actually standing in front of me."  
  
Aeleus slowly banged his head against a wall. Braig was bent double, practically in tears from laughing so hard.  
  
Myde dropped Ienzo's hand and took off his sunglasses to glare at Braig. "Braig. Not cool, man, not cool." He turned back to Ienzo with a roll of his eyes. "Ignore him, he does this all the time."  
  
"What, break out into laughter at random intervals like a maniacal hyena?" Ienzo said without thinking, then instantly clamped a hand over his mouth, unable to believe that he just said that to his idol.  
  
Myde laughed. "Pretty much, yeah."  
  
Ienzo relaxed slightly. "Well, I can at least sympathize with you on the idiotic boyfriend front, seeing as how mine is apparently determined to put a dent in your backstage wall with his head. Aeleus, I realize that there is very little cranial damage that can affect your brain due to your abnormally thick skin and the fact that your brain is little more than the size of a peanut. However, I do think that it's prudent that you cease banging your head against the wall. You wouldn't want to cause any unnecessary damage to it." Aeleus raised his eyebrows at him but stopped nonetheless. Ienzo gave him a _look_ in response. Aeleus was actually thankful that Ienzo was belittling him once more; it meant that he was back to normal for the time being. Fangirl Ienzo both terrified and embarrassed him.  
  
"Boyfriends," Myde lamented. "Why do we put up with them?"  
  
"Lord knows why," Ienzo said dryly, but he couldn't quite hide the foolish grin that was overtaking his usually stoic expression. Aeleus swore he could hear a tiny little voice echoing in Ienzo's head that went something like _ohmygod I'm bonding with Myde!_  
  
"Aw, it's because you loooooove us," Braig butted in with a wide smirk, slinging his arms 'round both Myde's and Ienzo's necks. Ienzo delicately tried to shrug Braig's arm off of his shoulders, but the greasy-haired boy had a tight grip.  
  
"No. No, I don't," Myde deadpanned, attempting to keep a straight face.  
  
"Yes you dooooo," Braig sing-songed, still grinning teasingly.  
  
"Okay, fine, you got me," Myde relented, but he couldn't help smiling either. "I love you. Guess the cat's out of the bag now."  
  
"Score." Braig released his grip, much to Ienzo's relief. Myde scrunched up his face at him in response, and Braig smirked, leaning into kiss the tip of his nose. "Just don't forget about that publicity appearance, loverboy," he reminded him.  
  
"Ooh. Yeah." Myde chewed the bottom of his lip. "I should probably go to that. My agent's gonna pitch a fit if Lea and Isa are there and I'm not." He turned back to Ienzo, an apologetic look written on his face. "Hey, I know I just got here and all, but I really have to dash—"  
  
"Oh no, that's perfectly fine," Ienzo said quickly, nodding in earnest. He was still rather dazed by everything.  
  
"—so I'm sure I'll see you around, since our boyfriends are friends and all. It was good meeting you, Ienzo."  
  
"Wait!" Ienzo said suddenly. He seemed to be fighting an inner battle with himself before bursting out with, "Can I get your autograph?"  
  
Aeleus was sorely tempted to resume hitting his head against the wall but reined himself in. Braig let out a strangled noise that was originally supposed to be a guffaw, but Myde kept him in check by stomping on his foot before the sound fully left his mouth.  
  
Myde himself looked slightly taken-aback but recovered quickly, splitting into an easy grin. "Yeah, sure! I'm flattered." He accepted Ienzo's proffered concert program and scrawled his name across the cover — and his cell phone number. "My digits," he said, nodding at the numbers. "Send me a text sometime, yeah? Maybe we can chill, if you don't mind getting away from the boyfriend sometime." His thousand-watt grin didn't even flicker despite the cool look Aeleus gave him, his eyes boring holes into his skull.  
  
"I'd like that," Ienzo replied, the corners of his mouth twitching.  
  
"Cool, I'll see you around then. I'll let you guys out the backstage exit – it's to your right."  
  
"Got it," Aeleus said, placing his hand on the small of Ienzo's back in an unconscious gesture, guiding him to the door. "See ya, Braig." He purposely neglected to say goodbye to Myde, but the other was as blissfully oblivious as ever. Airhead.  
  
"Later, dude." Braig lifted his hand in farewell. "So," he said to Myde as an aside after the door swung shut behind them. "That's the fangirl. Isn't he, like, a total freak?"  
  
"I dunno," Myde said mildly. "I think he's kinda cool."  
  
"You're just saying that 'cause he's all over you and inflates your already giant ego." Braig snickered.  
  
"Braaaaig," Myde whined, wrinkling his nose. "I do _not_ have an ego!"  
  
"Sure you don't." Braig grinned wolfishly. "But c'mon, Mr. Rock God, you got an appearance to make."  
  
"Okay, okay, I'm going!" They set off together, Myde periodically bumping into Braig's shoulder with every other step he took. Braig finally grabbed him around the waist in retaliation, and they dissolved into immature giggles.  
  
Needless to say, Myde's agent was thoroughly displeased when the rockstar showed up ten minutes late, rather disheveled and looking far too pleased with himself.  
  
On the other side of the door, Ienzo and Aeleus were walking in silence until Ienzo couldn't contain himself anymore and burst into chatter. "Oh my god, I can't believe I got to meet _the_ Myde! And I got his autograph! And his number! Can you believe it?" He continued prattling on in an extremely uncharacteristic manner. Aeleus was still dumbstruck, so he did what he did best, as far as dealing with Ienzo went: kept silent. Ienzo suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, forcing Aeleus to double back in confusion.  
  
Ienzo composed himself and took Aeleus by the hand, his own small, rather dainty hands engulfed by Aeleus's large palms. "Thank you," he said, his voice as gentle and sincere as the naturally dry and sarcastic boy could make it. He stood up on his tip-toes and wrapped his arms around Aeleus's neck to pull him down into a kiss. When he pulled back, he asked, "And how are you?" He was being remarkably un-self-absorbed for once, most likely out of sheer gratitude. "You barely spoke a single word the entire time. Are you okay?"  
  
"I'm—" Aeleus was about to comment on how he didn't like that Myde gave him his number so casually, but he found that he… didn't care anymore. Ienzo had met Myde. They'd connected on some level, even if it was just a shared appreciation for their allegedly idiotic boyfriends. He'd even gotten his number. And yet, he'd chosen him, a hulking football player who couldn't tell his left shoe from his right, never mind know what counted as appropriate concert-going attire. Him. Not Myde. And in that single instant, all his worries melted away. "—great," he finished, his heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. "I am totally great."  
  
And he meant it. He'd never meant anything as much as he did just then, and he leaned down to sweep Ienzo up into another deep kiss. He didn't care that they were in the middle of the street. He didn't care that it was a chilly night, or that strangers were staring, or that Ienzo would probably lecture him on the inappropriateness of such involved public displays of affection when they finally broke apart. All that mattered was that he had Ienzo, and he wasn't letting him go.


	11. Chapter 11

It was official. The transaction had been made, the rare deck of cards snapped up almost instantaneously. It was a collector's dream, with the certificate of authenticity, the proof that this was no forgery, being the clincher. He'd made $230 off of it, and yet he felt like he'd lost so much more. Feeling rather empty inside, Rudol packed up the cards as tenderly and carefully as possible, ensuring that they would leave and arrive at their new owner's home in perfect condition.  
  
He couldn't bear the thought of going home, returning to England, and having to explain to his grandfather what he had done. Just thinking about it filled him with dread, so he pushed the thought aside and handed over his package to be shipped. The post office lady pried it from his reluctant grip, giving him an odd look as his fingers clenched the parcel involuntarily, but he didn't care what she thought of him. She was taking his baby from him, and it tore him up inside. With one last longing look, he pulled himself away and tried to suppress the sudden swell of emotions that surged up inside of him. He couldn't dwell on it. He had more pressing matters to worry about.  
  
He had to keep himself busy, he told himself as he approached the ATM near the post office. He was beyond relieved to find that the buyer had followed his requests and completed the transaction in record time. A lump sum of $230 was sitting in his account. He withdrew everything, his fingers shaking slightly as he took the four crisp bills: two hundreds, a twenty, and a ten-dollar bill. This was the trade-off. This is what he got for giving up his deck of Jerry's Nugget playing cards.  
  
He wasn't sure if it was worth it. "Of course it was," he tried to tell himself, but he wasn't doing a very good job at convincing himself. "This is your ticket out. This is what's going to save you." He clung to the words like a mantra, repeating them to himself as he headed home with his one last hope for repaying his debt in full.  
  
\------------------------  
  
"One-thousand, seven-hundred and twenty… one-thousand, seven-hundred and twenty-one." He counted out the last of his cash and exhaled, flopping back on his bed and running his hands down his face in mingled exhaustion and pure, utter relief. He did it. It took a month of working every day, working harder than he'd ever had in his entire life, working himself until he was literally sick. It took the heartbreak of selling off his most prized possession. But he did it, and what's more, he did it without having to resort to borrowing or stealing or wheedling money from anyone. It… felt good.  
  
God, it felt good. Different than anything he'd ever felt before in his life, but good.  
  
Twenty minutes later, he was approaching the Zeta Beta Tau frat house with a thick manila envelope clutched in his hands. The odds of finding Seifer skulking in the shadows of the back alley behind the house with his trained thugs were high. And sure enough, he caught sight of the bookie loitering with the same large, dark-skinned guy he had ran into when seeking an extension, as well as a slight girl… boy… _girl_ with deathly pale skin and hair as white as snow.  
  
He pasted on a cocky grin and strode over to the bookie as confidently as someone who was finally forking over his much overdue payments could. Of course, his display of bravado was soon wiped on the pavement in a quite literal fashion as he stumbled over an outstretched foot and hit the ground. He climbed to his feet, swearing as he clutched his freshly-ripped jeans and glaring daggers at the girl who had tripped him.  
  
"Oops," she said, her voice expressionless, but a malicious smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Rudol shuddered involuntarily as he caught sight of the blood red eyes that stared at him unwaveringly.  
  
"Here," he said shortly, stuffing the manila envelope into Seifer's hands.  
  
"Oh, finally decided to pay up, didya? Wise decision. Count the money, Rai," Seifer said, but seemed to think better of it the minute the words left his lips. "You know what? You do it, Fuu," he decided.  
  
Rudol had to bite back a laugh. If he was going by first impressions, he would have maintained that the buffoonish male wasn't smart enough to count past ten, and it seemed as though his assumption was correct.  
  
The albino took the wads of cash and began briskly rifling through the bills. Rudol watched her count, his shoulders tense, hoping against hope that he'd managed to tally up the money correctly and hadn't slipped up or skipped a hundred or…  
  
"All there," the girl said, deeming it all accounted for, and Rudol breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"Fine," Seifer said, making a note in the black book Rai handed to him and snapping it shut. "You're off the hook." He smirked. "I'm sure we'll be doing business with you in the future again."  
  
"Actually, I don't think we will," Rudol said smoothly, struggling to keep his voice even. "Betting with you caused far too many problems in my life."  
  
"Suit yourself. But remember… once a gambler, always a gambler." Seifer's smirk grew, a malicious glint in his eyes.  
  
"Yeah, well, I've gambled away my life, and look how well that turned out for me." He'd heard enough and didn't trust himself not to rise to the bait, so he did the only logical thing: retreat.  
  
"Whatever you say… chickenwuss. You'll be seeing me and my boys again, mark my words," Seifer called after Rudol's retreating back.  
  
"Affirmative."  
  
"We'll be waiting, ya know!"  
  
Rudol clenched his fists, willing himself not to rise to the challenge, to be the better man, to not respond angrily… He blinked as he emerged from the back alley onto the sunny street of the Greek Row, blinded by the sun.  
  
He made it. He did it. And he hoped that was one sorry chapter of his life that was over. He couldn't deny that he'd gamble again – he loved the thrill of it too much to ever kick the habit entirely. He was drawn to it like a fly to honey. It was his thing, it was his _game_ … but he could promise himself that he'd never let his debt grow to that excess ever again.  
  
And he sure as hell wouldn't give Seifer and his lackeys that satisfaction.  
  
\------------------------   
  
With his debts paid off, there was only one thing left he had to do. And it involved fixing a lot of mistakes, mistakes that he wasn't sure he could ever repair.  
  
"Are you sure this is going to work out okay?" he asked, attempting to assuage the nerves that swelled up inside him. It wasn't like him to get nervous – he was calm, easy-going, cocky, even. Not a nervous wreck who cared what anyone thought of him.  
  
"Positive," L'Erena replied confidently. "I haven't been so positive since the last time I stuck my finger in a spark plug."  
  
"If you say so." Rudol stared dubiously at the apartment door from his hiding place around the corner, unable to believe that he was actually going to do this.  
  
Lumaria leaned over to hiss into L'Erena's ear, "Are you really sure that he can pull this off?"  
  
"Between you and me? No," she whispered back. "But for fuck's sake, don't tell him that." She raised her voice, nudging Rudol. "Okay, Rudy, just remember what we told you… Show him that you're sorry, show him that you've changed… but most importantly, _be honest_. That's the only way you can rebuild his trust in you."  
  
Rudol looked back at his two best friends, who had decked themselves out in stealth gear, wearing all black and treating this as if it was a covert mission. Which, in a way, it kind of was. "Okay," he said, nodding to reassure himself that everything was going to be okay. "I'm gonna do this."  
  
"Good luck." Lumaria and L'Erena saluted him in unison, snapping to attention and causing him to laugh out loud. Rudol ventured out from their secret hiding place (which really wasn't so secret, given that anyone who came out of the elevators could spot them right away, but at least their base wasn't visible if anyone in Dilan's apartment stepped outside) and walked up to the door in question.  
  
He raised his hand, fully prepared to knock, only to chicken out at the last second. He doubled back, maintaining, "I can't do this. I can _not_ do this." He looked at L'Erena and Lumaria for help, his eyes wild.  
  
"Yes you can!" Lumaria insisted, taking him by the shoulders and steering him back towards the apartment.  
  
"Seriously, Rudy, what else do you have to lose? Nothing, so go knock on the door before I do it myself!"  
  
"Okay. Okay, I can do this, I can do this…"  
  
"Go!" they shouted as one, pointing at the door.  
  
"Fine!" He composed himself, and his two comrades ducked around the corner once more. Rudol took a deep breath and knocked.  
  
"Hang on!" a deep, muffled voice called, and the door swung open not two seconds later.  
  
Rudol's heart plummeted. He didn't anticipate having to go through Dilan's roommate first. "Um. Hi?" he said weakly, thinking quickly. Aeleus was, if anything, even less forgiving than Dilan, and he had the sinking suspicion that he was about to be turned away before he could even make it through the door. Or punched in the face. Whichever.  
  
"Oh, it's you," Aeleus said, his voice belying the fact that he viewed Rudol as something akin to scum. He folded his arms and regarded the intruder for one long, cold minute. "Give me one good reason why I should let you step foot through this door," he said at last, the contempt n his words unmistakable. "You have ten seconds. Go."  
  
Rudol swallowed. He really had not been expecting this, and now he had to string together a coherent answer that could get him through the door. "Because I've changed. Because I want to apologize. Because I need to tell Dilan how I feel about—"  
  
"—nine, ten. Time's up, sorry." Aeleus abruptly shut the door in Rudol's face.  
  
Rudol groaned and rested his forehead against the door, cursing the world at large. He was about to turn back and tell Lumaria and L'Erena that he'd tried to no avail, when he heard hushed voices arguing from behind the door. He paused and pressed his ear up against it, straining to catch the words.  
  
"—him. You're making a mistake."  
  
"Dude, at this point, I don't even give a shit anymore. I'd like to hear what he has to say for himself. …Fucking asshole." Rudol thought it said a lot about him that he was overjoyed to hear Dilan's voice, even if the tone was hostile and his anger directed at him.   
  
"Fine, but if he pulls anything funny, I'm beating the shit out of him."  
  
"As long as you let me get a shot at him too, I'm all for it."  
  
"You said it, bro."  
  
The door swung open again, catching Rudol off guard, and he fell into Aeleus, who had opened it.  
  
The larger man looked down at him in distaste and said shortly, "He said he'll see you."  
  
Rudol stepped through the door warily, eyes darting back and forth as he took in the familiar surroundings. He'd had many good memories here, true. Most of them ended up with him getting laid. But the last time he'd seen this place, things had not ended quite as well. In fact he seemed to recall things ending on a very sour note. And there was no sugarcoating it — he'd treated Dilan terribly. It was no wonder he wasn't welcome here. And Aeleus had seated himself on the couch so that he could hear everything that was said, even with his back to them. He was making it a strong point to warn Rudol that if he messed with Dilan, he'd have to answer to Aeleus as well. The only thing that was missing was Ienzo, judging him. Thank heavens for small favors.  
  
He tried to smile at Dilan, who was leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest, but his half-hearted grin faltered at the stony expression on the other's face.  
  
"So, it's you," Dilan said flatly in the same dead tone that Aeleus had used in greeting Rudol. It would have been almost funny if it wasn't for how serious the situation was. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice accusing. "Come to steal something from me like the dirty little thief you are?"  
  
"No, of course not. I— I just wanted to say…" Rudol swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. "Um. Sorry."  
  
Dilan stared at him in disbelief, his arms still crossed across his chest. "Sorry? That's _it_?"  
  
"No! I didn't mean it like—" Rudol cursed himself. Two seconds in, and he already fucked up his carefully planned-out apology.  
  
"You think you can just waltz in here and say you're sorry and that'll automatically make everything okay? I can't trust _anything_ you have to say, especially when all you have to say is a totally insincere _sorry_. You dumped me once, completely out of the blue. How do I know you won't turn around and pull something like that again? You stole money from me, you jerked me around, acting like we _had_ something when we didn't, we had _nothing_ —" Dilan broke off before he lost control of his emotions entirely, his voice laden with hurt and heated anger.  
  
Rudol winced. He couldn't deny the accusations. He knew all too well that they were true, every last word. "I know," he admitted, keeping his voice low. "I was a dick. I was a complete and utter arsehole. I can admit it. I know it doesn't make any of what I did right, but I'm trying to change. I really am. Please, you have to believe me. I've cleaned up— I paid back all of my debts, I haven't made a single bet since—"   
  
"Yeah, and just how many people did you have to steal from to pay them back?" Dilan interrupted coldly.  
  
"None, only me!" He was too anxious and despairing to really be offended. "…Dilan, I straightened out, I swear—" Desperately longing to communicate, Rudol grabbed two fistfuls of Dilan's shirt and pulled him down to his level. "I got an honest job. I worked every day for a month, including weekends. I— I—" He knew he was stammering incoherently, but he was having a hard time finding the appropriate words to express his feelings. "I _sold my Jerry's Nugget playing cards,_ " he finally said, his voice breaking as he recalled the emptiness he'd felt the morning. "It wasn't even just because I needed the money that badly — I could've done so many more unsavory things to get the last few hundred bucks, you know that. But I just couldn't do it." He laughed somewhat breathlessly, still unable to get his head around everything. "I did it for you. Because I love you."  
  
He broke off, scarcely able to believe what he was saying. It took him so long to even admit it to himself; it was surreal that he was able to speak the words out loud. He knew he was commitment-phobic, he knew that he was flighty. He never liked the idea of being tied down to just one person. It was why he had balked when he realized that Dilan had an entirely different take on their relationship than he did, and why he'd cut it off so quickly and harshly. And yet… he was ready. He wanted to make amends, he _wanted_ to commit to Dilan. If he hadn't already known in his heart that he loved him, seeing Dilan had solidified it. "Yeah, I said it." Rudol met his eyes, silently pleading for him to understand what this confession meant to him. "I love you. I fucking _love_ you." His voice cracked on the last syllable.  
  
Dilan didn't say anything, simply looked at him coldly, and Rudol felt his heart lurch sickeningly. It was like his fever-induced nightmares all over again. "What do I have to do to prove to you that I am sincere about this?" he asked. "I do love you, and I don't say that lightly. You're the first person I've ever said those words to— you're the first person I've ever wanted to say those words to. Because, Christ, they're true. I want to be with you again, Dilan. I want you, and only you."  
  
"…I don't want you touching me right now," Dilan said, his voice cutting through Rudol like steel. Dilan pulled his shirt out of Rudol's grasp and put several feet of distance between them. He ran his hands down his face in exasperation before spitting out, "And what makes you think I still want you, after the way you betrayed me? Do you remember what you _did_ to me? There's nothing you can do to fix that."  
  
"I never meant to hurt you," Rudol said quietly.  
  
Dilan laughed, incredulous. "Never meant to— of _course_ you did! You knew exactly what you were doing. At least have the fucking decency to admit it!"  
  
Rudol's temper flared dangerously and he matched Dilan's tone, bellowing back at him, "I was scared, okay?"  
  
Dilan snorted. "Yeah. Right." They glared at each other until Rudol, unable to take it, broke his gaze. Dilan let out an aggravated noise, and Rudol felt like he'd let him down all over again. "Why are you doing this to me…? For fuck's sake, it's been a month and a half, Rudol! For all you know, you're too late. Maybe I've found someone else, someone who treats me better than _you_ ever treated me."  
  
Rudol recoiled as if he'd been slapped. In all of his worst-case scenarios, the possibility of being replaced had never occurred to him. Trying to steady himself, he wet his lips and took a deep breath before replying.  
  
"All right," he said carefully. "You're right. I shouldn't have expected you to wait around for me to get my shit together. It was stupid of me. Of course you've moved on." He forced a smile, but his eyes were void of their usual laughing glint, a thinly veiled attempt to disguise his pain. "I just… I hope you're happy," he said, and he genuinely meant it. It wasn't sarcasm. "And if that means a life without me, if you want me to leave and never bother you again, then I'll disappear. I'll do it, whatever it takes. I don't want to hurt you anymore." He turned and made his way to the door, preparing to leave.  
  
Dilan exhaled in vexation, a frustrated noise that made Rudol linger, his hand hovering over the doorknob. It was too much to hope for forgiveness at this point, but he couldn't help the little glimmer of hope that flared within him. The spark inside of him extinguished when Dilan started in on him again.  
  
"You're unbelievable," Dilan burst out. "You're fucking unbelievable. After all that, you're seriously doing this to me now? No, I never moved on. No, I never forgot about you, no matter how hard I tried. And believe me, I did." He stared at Rudol, the accusation in his eyes making the blond fidget guiltily.  
  
Dilan continued relentlessly, eyes still boring a hole in Rudol's head. "And yet, no matter how much I convinced myself that I hated you, there was always that one part deep down that never stopped loving you, even if you did turn out to be a two-timing piece of shit." He snorted and shook his head, looking up at the ceiling and blinking. "Listen to me," he muttered, more to himself than anything, "talking about my _feelings_ like I'm some kind of girl or something."  
  
"Next thing you know, you'll be changing your name to Ienzo," Rudol ventured tentatively. He giggled, unable to keep his nerves and the tension from bubbling over. Unfortunately for him, he'd almost forgotten that Aeleus was still in the room, and he chanced half a glance at the back of his head. He regretted his words the moment they slipped out from between his lips; this wasn't the time for wisecracks, and he didn't need to provoke Aeleus further, having already betrayed and upset his roommate and best friend. Rudol was already on thin enough ice that making a wisecrack about his boyfriend could be enough to tip him over the edge.  
  
Mercifully, Aeleus didn't say anything, although his body did stiffen noticeably, his jaw set and his fists clenched.  
  
Dilan cracked a thin smile, and Rudol was elated at this small victory. When Dilan didn't say anything else, he decided to press his luck and proceed further.  
  
"I'm not saying everything's going to be perfect right away. I can't— I can't promise that," he began, choosing his words with care. "And I know it's going to take some time for things to go back to the way they were, if… well, if they ever can. I know there's so much fucked up about me that I need to fix. But I want to try. I really fucking want to do this. And I can't bear doing it alone. I need help. I need _your_ help. But it's not about me anymore, Dilan, it's about you. And it's your decision as to what happens next." He smiled wryly. "I lost the right to make that decision when I dumped you. All I can do is ask, and pray that you'll say yes…" He took a deep breath. This was the moment. "Can we start over?"  
  
Dilan mulled the request over, pensively staring at the floor with his arms crossed across his chest once more. After a tense silence, he looked up and shook his head regretfully. "I still love you, Rudy," he said. "I always have. But I just don't know if I can be with someone who hurt me as badly as you did. I don't know if I can trust you anymore. I don't know if us being together is a good idea."  
  
He'd expected to feel more over Dilan's rejection of him. But all he felt was a paralyzing numbness. He was dead on the inside, and all he could think of was that he should have expected this all along. But when the numbness wore away, he could only feel the masked pain. "I understand," he said after an agonizing silence, his voice sounding hollow even to his own ears. "I'll just… go now, shall I?" He didn't wait for an answer. He just wanted more than anything to duck out of here and seek solace in the arms of his friends.  
  
But Dilan's fingers closed around his wrist, and he turned back, confused and hurt and upset that Dilan had to interrupt what was supposed to be a quiet departure. Any protests or angry retorts died on his lips when he looked into Dilan's intense, piercing gaze, meeting the eyes that he was convinced could see into his soul in all of his imperfections. Dilan continued, "But that's a risk I'm willing to take."  
  
Rudol opened his mouth in startled incomprehension, about to ask him what he meant, but then Dilan's lips were on his, and he threw caution to the wind and kissed him back forcefully, losing himself in his arms. His hands made their way up to the side of Dilan's face to pull him closer, gripping him tightly as he returned the kiss, too afraid to let go and find that this was all a dream.  
  
He didn't know how long it took for one of them to pull apart, and when they did, he found himself out of breath and gasping for air. Dilan himself looked just as dazed and confused as he felt.  
  
"You got a tongue stud," was the first coherent sentence he was able to string together.  
  
Rudol grinned wickedly and flashed the silver piercing. "Sure did."  
  
"Annnd, that's my cue to leave," Aeleus mumbled, rolling his eyes and pulling down the brim of his Sigma Chi cap as he slouched past them.  
  
"Thanks, bro," Dilan said, clapping him on the shoulder as he passed.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Aeleus pulled the door open, only to let out a small shout of surprise when two black-clad figures tumbled through the door. "What the—"  
  
Lumaria disentangled himself from L'Erena and bounced to his feet. "Can I be the best man?" he blurted out eagerly, spilling the beans as to what he and his partner-in-crime had been whispering about on the opposite side of the door.  
  
"I told him that I'd really be more suitable," L'Erena added, dusting herself off.  
  
"Rennie and Lulu," Rudol muttered into Dilan's ear by way of introduction. "I know they're crazy, just go with it. It's no use arguing with them when they get like this." He turned to Lumaria, grinning. "You can be the flower girl, mate."  
  
"Well," came another dry, familiar voice as its owner appeared just outside the door. "It appears as though I'm interrupting what looks like a cozy get-together." Ienzo gave the two strangers a once-over, then his eyes flicked over to Dilan and Rudol and their interlocked hands. He raised an eyebrow inquiringly. "I won't comment."  
  
" _Thank_ you." Dilan sighed in aggravation. "Now go away, bitch," he added under his breath, so low that only Rudol caught the words.  
  
"But regardless, I'm here for another reason entirely. And although I'd prefer to not have an audience while I speak with Aeleus, I'm afraid the news can't wait." Ienzo pushed his way past Rudol's friends and began speaking to his boyfriend in a hushed, excited voice. L'Erena and Lumaria glanced at each other and nodded, creeping closer so they could listen to what Ienzo had to say.  
  
"Aeleus, you recall Myde giving me his phone number, correct? Well, I've been texting him on and off all week, and—" Ienzo took a deep breath to steady himself, bubbling with excitement in an all too uncharacteristic fashion "—he invited me to go shopping with him this weekend! I'm going to help him pick out an outfit to wear to this upcoming photoshoot…"  
  
"Oh god, Ienzo. You're becoming a groupie." Aeleus was torn between being aghast or being grateful that their relationship was firmly in 'gay bffs' territory.  
  
"Oh, shopping! I love shopping!" Lumaria interjected brightly. "Can I come too?"  
  
Ienzo turned to face him. "I'm sorry, who are you again?"  
  
"I'm Lulu, but you can call me Mr. Fabulous. So! Who is this guy and why is he famous enough to have his own photoshoot?"  
  
"Only the most famous rockstar to grace this earth— Myde of _Flaming Oceans_!" Ienzo drew himself up to his full height, bursting with pride that he could say that he was friends, however marginally, with someone whom he considered to be a rock god.  
  
"Ooh, yeah, he definitely needs that shopping trip. Which is why I'm coming with you, because someone needs to tell him that he just can't appear in magazines wearing those kinds of clothes. I mean, that jacket he likes to wear? It's got to go. Only David Bowie can pull off the Ziggy Stardust look."  
  
"Excuse me, but Myde is iconic enough to pull off any look he wants," Ienzo sniffed, indignant.  
  
"Well, I'm not saying that he can't work some of his outfits," Lumaria reasoned, conceding the point. "He looked fabulous at his last concert, for instance. But most of it? Sooo passé," he drawled, with a roll of his eyes and a limp-wristed gesture.  
  
"Lulu, your gay is showing," L'Erena commented.  
  
Lumaria rounded on her, a manic gleam in his eyes suggesting that he had just gotten a fantastic idea. "Come with us, and we'll give you a makeover! You're not going to bed Nami in those ratty old hoodies."  
  
"That won't be necessary," L'Erena replied, a slow catlike grin spreading across her face.  
  
"What— oh my god, Rennie! Did you have sex with her? When? Why didn't you tell me? I'm your bff, you're supposed to tell me these things!"  
  
"I didn't have sex with her! Well, not yet… but I may or may not have gotten to second base with her last night. And we may or may not have been watching a movie that never got finished. And she may or may not have left her bra at my place this morning."  
  
Lumaria let out a squeal and took her hands, jumping up and down in excitement. "But see, this just proves that you have to come with us! We can get you a sense of style for your next date with Nami, and we can get Myde out of those horrid pointy-shouldered jackets!"  
  
"I beg to differ—" Ienzo began to say, his voice dignified, but Lumaria cut him off neatly.  
  
"Shut up, yes, they are horrid," Lumaria interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. "I mean, why else do you think I'm majoring in fashion design? I can tell these things!"  
  
"Dil…" Aeleus muttered out of the corner of his mouth, staring in disbelief at the animated group as if they were speaking in a foreign language, which, to him and his roommate, they really were. "Is. Is this real life?"  
  
"Dude. I don't even know. What… what just happened?"  
  
"No, it's a brilliant plan!" Lumaria insisted, swiveling around to face Rudol. "Don't you think so, Rudy?"  
  
"Fab," Rudol replied drolly, letting go of Dilan's hand long enough to spin Lumaria around and begin herding the group out of the apartment. "And hey, here's an even more brilliant idea. Why don't you lot just piss off? We were kind of in the middle of a serious conversation here."  
  
"Ooh, you're right." The real reason they were here to begin with dawned on the others. "Yeah, we'll just get going. Go get some, Rudy." Lumaria winked knowingly at Rudol, then linked arms with L'Erena and Ienzo, ignoring the latter's squawks of protest. With that, he dragged them down the hall, singing the praises of his new gay best friend and the upcoming shopping trip that he all but hijacked.  
  
Aeleus looked at Dilan helplessly.  
  
"Sorry, bro, you're on your own here," Dilan snickered.  
  
"I hate you so much for leaving me all by myself with these idiots," Aeleus said bitterly, shaking his head in resignation. "I feel like the only guy in the middle of an all-girls sleepover."  
  
"Sucks to be you," Dilan said, grinning as he shut the door behind him.  
  
"It's cruel and unusual punishment to leave him alone with the two of them plus Ienzo," Rudol commented, his heart feeling lighter than ever as he took Dilan by the hand. "It's a gay-fest out there with the three of them together."  
  
"He'll get over it," Dilan replied, running his thumb over Rudol's fingers. The silence that followed was slightly awkward, as neither knew quite what to do now that they were alone together for the first time in what felt like ages. There were so many things left unsaid, so much damage control that still needed to be done. And for the first time in his life, Rudol felt vulnerable, and there was one question that continued to bother him.  
  
"Why'd you take me back?" he asked, partly to break the suffocating silence and partly because he needed to know the answer.  
  
"…I don't know," Dilan said after a moment's thought. "Maybe I'm just setting myself up to get hurt again. Maybe I'll regret it. But I think I'd regret it even more if I let you walk away without giving you a second chance."  
  
Rudol mulled over the words in his head, then buried his head into Dilan's chest. "God, I don't deserve you," he groaned, his voice muffled by the fabric of the t-shirt.  
  
"Shut up," Dilan replied, eloquent as ever. He embraced him, resting his chin on top of his head, and closed his eyes. He needed time to soak this in. The only human contact he'd had in the past month and a half was fleeting: a friendly punch in the arm, a thump on the back, the occasional bro-hug from Aeleus. Nothing like this, nothing like holding a warm body close against his, nothing even remotely this intimate. "Come on," he said suddenly, pulling away and taking Rudol by the hand. "Let's go lay down."  
  
Rudol followed Dilan to the bedroom, where they tumbled onto Dilan's bed. He curled up, nestling himself next to Dilan's body. "I missed you," he murmured, resting his head on Dilan's chest. "I dreamed about you, y'know. All last week. I was burning up, and you were the only thing I could think of, awake or asleep. And now I'm still having a hard time believing this isn't all a dream."  
  
He glanced up at Dilan, who was looking at him with uncharacteristic tenderness. "Yeah, well, if you're dreaming, I am too. And I don't want to wake up if it is."  
  
"You don't have to wake up. We're in this together now, you and me." Rudol shifted his weight so that he was on top of him. "There's no getting rid of me this time. I'm sticking with you..." He grinned unrestrainedly, the elation of the fact that he was finally with Dilan again finally sinking in, and finished, "Through thick and thin."  
  
"Good," Dilan replied, running his thumb over Rudol's jaw, still unable to tear his eyes from him. "Cause I'm not letting you go." He tilted his chin upwards and kissed him, softly, slowly, luxuriously. There was no rush. They could take it slow, a totally foreign concept to the two of them.  
  
But then, they had all the time in the world now.


End file.
